A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 


A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 


BY 


FLORENCE  WARDEN, 

Author  of  "The  House   on   the   Marsh,"  "A  Terrible  Family?'  "Adela's 
Ordeal?  "A  Perfect  Fool,"  etc.,  etc. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  FEDERAL  BOOK  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1894, 

BY 

FLORENCE  WARDEN. 
[All  Rights  Reserved.] 


SRLf 

MBil 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.— A  COMPLICATED  CASK, 7 

n.— THE  VERDICT, 16 

HI.— HUSBAND  AND  WIFE, 22 

IV.— A  STRANGER'S  SYMPATHY 30 

V.— THE  LITTLE  NEW  HOUSE  AND  THE  BIG  OLD  ONE,    37 

VI.— JEM 45 

VII.— MR.  MOSELEY'S  FRIEND, 52 

Vni.— NETELKA  AS  AN  AUTOCRAT, 60 

IX.— MR.  MOSELEY'S  GRATITUDE, 67 

X.— A  SHEEP  IN  WOLF'S  CLOTHING 74 

XI. — AN  EXCHANGE  OF  CONFIDENCES,     .       .       .       .83 

XII.— NETELKA' s  CONVERT 92 

XIII.— POOR  JEM, 99 

XIV.— NETELKA'S  PLAN 106 

XV. — WHERE  DOES  THE  MONEY  COME  FROM  ?       .       .115 
XVI.— AN  ANSWER  TO  THE  QUESTION,       .       .       .       .124 

XVII.— A  RECOGNITION 130 

XVIII.— LOVE-SECRETS 139 

XIX.— HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  SUSPICIONS,     .        .       .       .146 

XX.— A  TRAGIC  MISTAKE 153 

XXI. — A  MODEL  HUSBAND, 161 

XXII.— THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  BROUGHAM,      .       .       .       .168 
XXIII. — A  VOLUME  FROM  THE  LIBRARY,       ....  176 

XXIV.— JEM  CLIMBS  A  TREE 183 

XXV.— JEM'S  ADVENTURES, 190 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAOB 

XXVI.— LINLEY'S  LITTLE  GAME 198 

XXVII. — A  MYSTERIOUS  ILLNESS, 205 

XXVIII. — A  STARTLING  PROPOSITION,         ....  215 

XXIX.— LINLEY  SCORES, 221 

XXX. — AN  AWKWARD  POSITION 229 

XXXI.— Two  SIDES  TO  A  BARGAIN,          .        .        .        .236 

XXXII.— Two  MEETINGS, 246 

XXXIII.— TEMPTATION, 251 

XXXIV.— GOOD-BY, 257 

XXXV.— COMPLICATIONS, 266 

XXXVI.— KNAVES  FALL  OUT,     .        .        .        .        .        .274 

XXXVII.— METHOD  OR  MADNESS? 281 

XXXVIII.— LINLEY'S  ESCAPE 289 

XXXIX.— HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  GOOD-BY,    .        .        .        .  296 
XL.— A  JOURNEY  AND  ITS  END, 306 


A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A   COMPLICATED  CASE. 

IT  was  at  the  Liverpool  Autumn  Assizes  that  the  case 
came  on,  and  the  court  was  crowded  to  suffocation,  for 
a  man  was  on  trial  for  his  life. 

But  this  fact  alone  would  not  have  accounted  for  the 
brilliant  appearance  of  the  court,  every  available  corner  of 
which  was  filled  with  ladies  who,  although  for  the  most 
part  they  had  arrayed  themselves  in  garments  of  sober 
coloring,  yet  brought  with  them  an  atmosphere  of  "  smart- 
ness" and  an  aroma  of  frivolity  which  gave  a  piquancy  and 
an  added  interest  to  the  scene. 

It  was  no  common  murder  which  brought  these  butterflies 
of  society  into  the  close  air  of  the  Assize  Court.  It  was 
no  common  murderer,  no  unhappy  laborer,  arraigned  for 
kicking  to  death  a  drunken  wife,  to  gaze  on  whose  features 
a  fashionable  beauty  had  travelled  all  the  way  from  Lon- 
don and  an  American  heiress  had  hurried  back  from  Paris. 

It  was  a  "  Society  case. "  The  man  on  his  trial,  that  is 
to  say,  was  known  at  the  London  clubs  and  in  the  London 
ballrooms.  He  was  young,  moreover,  and  if  not  exactly 
good-looking,  was  at  least  "interesting."  And  then  he 


8  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

was  "well-connected,"  which  counts  for  so  much  in  these 
cases. 

As  he  sat  in  the  dock,  with  his  eyes  for  the  most  part  cast 
down,  pale,  nervous,  effeminate-looking,  there  was  only  one 
opinion  as  to  his  guilt — among  the  ladies,  at  least.  It  was 
summed  up  in  the  words  of  a  portly  middle-aged  woman, 
who  occupied,  not  a  seat  in  the  court  itself,  but  standing- 
room  in  the  heart  of  the  crushing,  struggling  crowd  be- 
yond the  barriers.  When  she  caught  sight  of  the  prisoner, 
she  ejaculated  in  audible  tones: 

"Why,  he  don't  look  as  if  he  could  hurt  a  fly!" 

Linley  Dax,  the  prisoner,  started  at  the  sound  of  her  loud 
voice,  and  then  looked  round  at  the  woman,  as  it  seemed, 
gratefully.  She  was  right:  he  did  not  look  as  if  he  could 
hurt  a  fly,  much  less  murder,  in  cold  blood,  a  fellow-man. 

The  crime  of  which  he  was  accused  was  in  reality  a  more 
complicated  one  than  appeared  on  the  indictment.  For 
while  this  only  set  forth  that  Linley  Dax,  "  did,  on  the 
fifth  day  of  September,  188-,  wilfully  and  of  malice  afore- 
thought, kill  and  murder  one  Henry  Tucker  Landon,  by 
suffocating  him  with  carburetted  hydrogen  gas,  at  Keith 
House,  Widicombe,"  there  was  hanging  over  the  prisoner's 
head  a  secondary  implied  charge  of  having  set  fire  to  Keith 
House  on  the  same  date,  with  intent  to  defraud  two  in- 
surance companies. 

The  known  facts  of  the  case  were  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dax,  well-dressed,  well-connected  persons,  of  undoubted  re- 
finement, had  taken  Keith  House  at  the  end  of  the  previ- 
ous year ;  had  brought  with  them  some  van  loads  of  furniture 
all  the  way  from  London,  and  that  the  prisoner  had  then 
sought  to  insure  the  furniture  and  contents  of  the  house  in 
different  insurance  offices  for  an  aggregate  sum  of  twenty 
thousand  pounds.  In  this  he  had  been  only  partly  suc- 
cessful, having  succeeded  in  obtaining  two  policies,  in  two 


A  COMPLICATED  CASE.  9 

different  offices,  for  a  sum  of  two  thousand  five  hundred 
pounds  each. 

The  insurance  was  effected  in  the  month  of  July. 

Immediately  after  the  fire  and  the  alleged  murder,  Mr. 
Dax  had  sent  in  his  claim  to  the  insurance  offices ;  but  their 
suspicions  having  been  aroused  by  various  circumstances, 
they  disputed  payment  of  the  policies  on  the  ground  of 
fraud.  In  the  mean  time  the  charge  of  murder  had  been 
brought,  and  the  affair  of  the  insurance  stood  over,  since 
the  defence  to  the  one  charge  would  be,  if  proved,  a  satis- 
factory answer  to  the  other. 

The  defence  was  that,  on  the  date  of  the  alleged  murder 
and  of  the  fire,  Linley  Dax  was  in  a  state  of  health  which 
made  it  impossible  for  him  to  leave  his  room  without  assist- 
ance. In  support  of  this  statement,  the  evidence  of  his 
doctor  was  given.  This  gentleman,  a  man  of  the  highest 
reputation,  swore  that  he  had  seen  Mr.  Dax  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  day  in  question,  and  had  found  him  in  a  state 
of  extreme  physical  and  mental  depression,  so  as  to  be, 
in  the  doctor's  opinion,  wholly  incapable  at  that  time  of 
the  exertions  attributed  to  him  on  that  evening. 

Another  witness  for  the  defence,  a  servant  in  the  employ 
of  the  prisoner,  deposed  that  Mr.  Dax  had  remained  in  his 
room  long  after  the  outbreak  of  the  fire,  from  inability  to 
get  down  the  stairs  without  assistance. 

For  the  prosecution  the  witness  chiefly  relied  upon  was 
another  servant,  named  Joseph  Turner,  who  swore  that  he 
had  seen  his  master  on  that  very  night  come  out  of  the 
room  on  the  ground  floor  where  the  fire  had  originated,  and 
had  afterwards  seen  him  go  into  the  room  occupied  by  Mr. 
Landon.  This  witness  further  alleged  that  Mr.  Landon 
had  arrived  from  London  that  day;  that  he  had  gone  to  see 
Mr.  Dax  in  the  room  of  the  latter,  and  that  high  words  had 
passed  between  them.  He  further  stated,  and  in  this  he 


10  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

was  corroborated  by  the  evidence  of  other  servants, that  Mr. 
Landon,  after  dining  by  himself,  had  retired  to  rest  in  an 
intoxicated  condition. 

This  evidence,  if  it  had  been  considered  quite  trust- 
worthy, would  have  gone  far  toward  establishing  the  guilt 
of  the  accused ;  while  the  evidence  of  a  housemaid  who  swore 
that  she  had  seen  Mr.  Dax  outside  the  kitchen-door  late 
that  night,  turning  on  the  gas  at  the  meter  after  it  had  been 
turned  off  for  the  night,  would  have  been  conclusive  as  to 
the  existence  of  fraud  on  the  prisoner's  part. 

The  weak  point  about  this  evidence,  however,  lay  in  the 
appearance,  manner,  and  antecedents  of  the  witness  Turner, 
and  in  his  acknowledged  influence  over  the  young  house- 
maid. Turner  was  a  young  man  with  a  bad,  nervous  man- 
ner and  shifty  eyes.  He  held  to  his  story  when  under  cross- 
examination,  but  confessed  to  having  been  under  notice  of 
dismissal  by  his  master,  and  also  to  having  previously  ob- 
tained a  situation  by  means  of  a  false  character,  and  the 
housemaid  admitted  that  she  was  engaged  to  be  married  to 
Turner. 

The  evidence  of  both  these  witnesses,  therefore,  carried 
comparatively  little  weight,  and  would  perhaps  have  been 
altogether  discredited  but  for  the  corroboration  which  cer- 
tain parts  of  it  received  from  outside  sources. 

Thus,  for  instance,  a  workman  who  had  been  engaged  in 
repapering  a  room  on  the  first  floor  deposed  to  having  over- 
heard enough  of  the  alleged  quarrel  between  the  deceased 
man  and  Mr.  Dax  to  know  that  the  former  was  demanding 
repayment  of  money  lent  to  the  latter,  while  another  ser- 
vant gave  evidence  to  the  effect  that,  the  fire  having  been 
extinguished  before  it  reached  the  wing  in  which  the  guest- 
chambers  were  situated,  she  had  found  the  door  of  Mr.  Lan- 
don's  room  locked,  with  no  key  in  it.  The  inference  drawn 
by  the  prosecution  from  this  circumstance  was  that  Mr.  Dax 


A  COMPLICATED  CASE.  11 

had  himself  locked  the  deceased  man  into  his  room  and 
taken  away  the  key. 

«/  •/ 

The  above  were  the  main  outlines  of  the  case  against  the 
prisoner  and  of  the  defence  raised  by  his  counsel. 

Among  the  most  interested  of  the  spectators  was  a  young- 
ish man,  of  a  decidedly  Jewish  cast  of  countenance,  who  sat 
in  one  of  the  galleries  set  apart  at  the  opening  of  the  As- 
sizes for  the  grand  jury.  His  attention  appeared  to  be  about 
equally  divided  between  the  prisoner  on  the  one  hand  and 
a  lady  who  sat  at  the  solicitors'  table  on  the  other.  At  last, 
after  a  prolonged  stare  at  the  lady,  the  Jew,  who  was  very 
well  dressed  and  presented  altogether  a  smart  as  well  as  pros- 
perous appearance,  turned  to  the  man  sitting  beside  him 
and  said : 

"  That's  his  wife,  isn't  it?" 

The  man  addressed  nodded. 

The  Jew  went  on,  in  some  surprise : 

"  Where  was  she  on  the  night  of  the  fire?" 

The  other  man  gave  him  an  expressive  look,  and  accom- 
panied it  by  a  slight  wink. 

"  She  went  away  two  days  before,  and  they  do  say  she 
took  all  the  most  valuable  things  in  the  house  away  with 
her." 

"Silence  in  the  court!"  roared  the  usher,  making  more 
noise  than  anybody  else. 

The  Jew  held  his  tongue  for  a  little  while,  but  he  was  not 
satisfied. 

"  Couldn't  the  prosecution  have  made  it  out  conspiracy, 
and  put  her  in  the  box  along  with  him?" 

The  other  man,  who  seemed  to  be  well-informed,  shook 
his  head. 

"They're  afraid.  She's  too  good-looking,"  answered 
he. 

At  this  point  the  cross-examination  of  the  last  of  the  wit- 


12  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

nesses  came  to  an  end,  and  the  speech  for  the  defence  be- 
gan. Then  the  man  who  sat  by  the  side  of  the  Jew  noticed 
certain  peculiarities  in  the  manner  of  his  neighbor,  which 
did  not  fail  to  rouse  his  curiosity.  At  every  point  in  the 
speech  which  told  heavily  in  the  prisoner's  favor  the  Jew's 
face  fell,  and  his  eyes  showed  plainly  by  their  troubled  ex- 
pression that  he  was  anxious  and  disquieted.  Whenever, 
on  the  other  hand,  counsel  for  the  defence  came  to  a  weak 
place,  the  countenance  of  the  Jew  grew  brighter,  and  he 
seemed  almost  to  smile  approval  from  where  he  sat  on  pris- 
oner and  counsel  alike. 

"One  of  the  creditors  whom  Mr.  Dax  has  'done'  in  his 
time,"  thought  the  other  man,  who  had  been  one  of  the 
prisoner's  tradesmen,  "  and  he's  gloating  over  the  poor 
devil's  chance  of  the  gallows!" 

At  this  moment  the  prisoner's  counsel,  with  all  the  more 
fervor  that  he  felt  the  weakness  of  certain  portions  of  his 
case,  dashed  into  a  moving  appeal  to  the  emotions  of  the 
jury,  dwelling  on  the  dismay  with  which  the  prisoner's 
young  wife,  returning  in  haste  to  her  husband's  side  on 
learning  the  calamity  which  had  befallen  them  both,  had 
heard  that  over  the  head  of  her  husband  there  hung  the  fear- 
ful charge  of  murder ! 

As  he  came  to  this  point  in  his  speech,  the  lady,  who, 
closely  veiled,  had  kept  her  head  bent  and  had  never  once 
exchanged  glances  with  her  husband,  looked  up  at  him. 
What  the  meaning  of  that  look  was  no  one  could  tell,  for 
the  black  lace  veil  was  the  safest  of  masks.  But  the  women 
in  the  court  looked  at  each  other  and  whispered  that  she 
might  well  be  sorry  for  him,  since  but  for  her  he  would 
never  have  stood  in  the  dock ! 

And  a  thrill  passed  through  the  feminine  breasts  and 
found  vent  in  gentle  sighs,  until  counsel  felt  the  very  at- 
mosphere warming  toward  his  client,  who  sat  with  his  head 


A  COMPLICATED  CASE.  13 

bent,  motionless  except  for  the  nervous  twitching  of  his 
small  white  hands. 

So  that  it  was  with  more  and  ever  more  confidence  he 
went  on,  growing  more  eloquent  with  every  sentence,  paint- 
ing the  distress  of  the  delicately  nurtured  woman  who  loved 
and  honored  the  prisoner  above  aught  else  in  the  world,  and 
the  joy,  the  overflowing  happiness,  it  would  give  her  if — or 
rather,  he  would  say,  when — they  gave  their  verdict  in  his 
favor  and  let  him  go  back,  a  free  and  innocent  man,  to  the 
loving  arms  of  the  wife  he  worshipped.  For  they  were  both 
young ;  the  world  was  all  before  them ;  their  happy  life  to- 
gether had  but  begun ;  there  were,  so  he  hoped  and  believed, 
many  years  of  life  and  joy  before  them,  years  in  which  they 
would  remember  the  terrible  trial  they  were  now  going 
through  but  as  a  nightmare  past  and  gone,  though,  by  its 
awful  nature,  by  the  lif e-and-death  issues  it  involved,  it  could 
never  be  forgotten. 

When  the  speech  for  the  defence  came  to  an  end,  there 
was  an  instinctive  attempt  at  applause ;  this,  though  quickly 
suppressed,  suggested  the  direction  in  which  popular  sym- 
pathy lay.  And  when  the  prisoner's  wife  threw  back  her 
veil,  the  better  to  scan  the  faces  about  her  and  to  secure  if 
possible  an  anticipatory  assurance  of  a  favorable  verdict, 
a  murmur  ran  round  the  court,  as  the  well-informed  among 
the  crowd  contrasted  her  handsome,  vivacious  face, with  its 
intelligent,  eager  expression,  with  the  colorless  fair  face, 
delicate  little  womanish  features,  and  general  air  of  feeble- 
ness and  of  weak  health  which  characterized  the  prisoner. 
And  the  spiteful  feminine  whisper  ran  that  they  had  got 
the  wrong  person  in  the  dock. 

The  Judge's  summing  up  was  short,  and  was  considered 
to  be,  on  the  whole,  favorable  to  the  prisoner.  He  dwelt 
upon  the  fact  that  the  evidence  against  Dax,  although  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  it,  came  chiefly  from  sources  which  could 


14  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

not  be  called  unimpeachable ;  while  the  motive,  suggesting  a 
quarrel  about  money  matters,  seemed  neither  strong  nor  well 
established. 

In  conclusion,  he  urged  the  jury  to  dismiss  from  their 
minds  anything  they  might  have  heard  concerning  the  pris- 
oner which  had  no  bearing  on  the  case. 

The  jury  then  retired  to  consider  their  verdict ;  and  the 
prisoner  having  been  removed  from  the  dock  into  the  cells 
below,  the  pent-up  emotions  of  the  crowd  immediately  found 
vent  in  a  buzz  of  excited  comment,  which,  in  spite  of  the 
officers  of  the  court,  grew  louder  every  moment. 

The  Jew  turned  triumphantly  to  the  tradesman  by  his 
side. 

"He'll  get  off,  sure  enough!  "  cried  he. 

The  other  man  stared. 

"Why,"  he  exclaimed  in  astonishment,  "I  thought  you 
didn't  want  him  to!  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir;  but  I  couldn't 
help  thinking  you  must  have  some  grudge  against  the  poor 
fellow." 

The  Jew  stroked  his  thick  black  mustache,  in  the  en- 
deavor to  hide  a  smile. 

"  I  never  saw  the  man  before  in  my  life,"  he  said  quietly. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  VEEDICT. 

IT  was  one  of  those  occasions  upon  which  every  man  feels 
the  need  of  expansion.  Everybody's  business  is  nobody's 
business  in  a  double  sense,  for  the  issue  of  events,  exciting 
though  it  is,  affects  nobody  personally.  All  feel  that  they 
can  give  free  vent  to  opinions  which  can  no  longer  affect  in 
any  way  the  fate  of  the  accused,  while  they  still  possess  all 
the  zest  of  prophecy. 

The  Jewish  gentleman,  therefore,  and  the  Christian 
tradesman  grew  confidential ;  or  perhaps  it  would  be  more 
correct  to  say  that  the  tradesman  grew  confidential,  while 
the  Jew  appeared  to  do  so. 

"Do  you  know  him,  then?"  asked  the  latter. 

"  Know  him !  I  should  think  I  did !"  answered  the  other, 
not  unconscious  of  the  distinction  the  acquaintance  con- 
ferred upon  him.  "  Why,  he's  been  in  my  shop  twice  a 
week  at  least  for  the  last  ten  months.  And  Mrs.  Dax  too," 
he  added  in  a  lower  tone,  although  the  lady  was  no  longer 
in  court  to  hear  him. 

"  Ah !"  said  the  Jew,  significantly,  "  she  looks  to  be  twice 
the  man  he  is !  " 

"  Why,  so  she  is,"  replied  the  other  promptly.  "To  see 
them  come  into  my  shop  together,  as  I've  seen  them  time 
and  again,  the  one  pale,  limp,  complaining  even  the  warmest 
days  of  spring  that  it  was  so  cold,  the  other  full  of  life  and 
spirits,  it  was  like  frost  and  sunshine." 

"  And  people  say,  don't  they,  that  she  was  the  moving 
spirit  in " 


16  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Well,  well,  people  can't  help  forming  their  own  conclu- 
sions, sir;  can  they?  And  servants  will  talk,  you  know, 
sir ;  and  so  things  pass  from  lip  to  lip  until  there's  a  pretty 
story  made  out  that  would  hang  a  whole  family.'1 

"Hang,  eh?" 

"  If  you  liked  to  believe  it  all.  But  of  course  the  story 
grows." 

"  And  how  much  of  it  do  you  believe?"  asked  the  Jew. 
"  Come,  now,  you're  an  intelligent  man,  not  likely  to  be  car- 
ried away  by  prejudice.  What's  your  private  opinion?" 

"  I  prefer  not  to  have  one,  sir." 

"  H'm,  that  sounds  like  a  bad  one.  You  may  speak  out 
freely  to  me,  you  know,  for  I  don't  belong  to  this  part  of 
the  world;  I'm  a  Londoner." 

"  Come  up  on  purpose  for  the  trial,  sir?"  asked  the  man 
curiously. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  no.  I'm  here  on  business,  and  dropped 
in  by  accident  to  see  the  fun  that  was  going.  And  I  stopped 
on  because  I  was  interested  in  the  lady,  from  what  I'd  heard 
and  from  what  I  could  see.  She's  a  very  handsome  wo- 
man," he  went  on  critically.  "  Lots  of  style  and  dash,  and 
knows  how  to  dress.  Look  at  her  get-up  to-day — stops  just 
short  of  being  theatrically  mournful  and  sombre,  don't  it? 
She  knows  how  to  make  the  money  fly,  I'll  warrant!" 

The  other  man  grinned. 

"I  believe  you!"  said  he.  "She's  got  some  diamonds 
that  would  make  your  mouth  water,  and  dresses — well,  there, 
you  should  see  her  at  Aintree  on  a  race  day !  Nothing  gaudy, 
and  yet  with  something  about  her  that  makes  all  the  other 
women  look  dowdy.  You  know  what  I  mean,  sir,  I  dare 
say?" 

"Yes,  I  know  the  sort,"  nodded  the  Jew,  knowingly. 
"  And  they  say,  I  suppose,  that  it  was  on  her  account  that 
her  husband  ran  into  debt  to  this  man  Landon?" 


THE  VERDICT.  17 

"  Why,  yes,  sir,  that's  just  what  they  do  say,"  assented  the 
tradesman.  "  Everybody  wants  to  know  where  all  the  money 
went  to,  if  it  wasn't  on  her  clothes,  and  her  jewelry,  and 
the  stylish  turnout  she  used  to  drive  about  in." 

The  Jew  seemed  to  be  ticking  off  in  his  mind  the  various 
items  of  the  lady's  extravagance  with  an  interest  exceed- 
ingly strong.  He  scarcely  noticed, so  deeply  absorbed  was  he, 
the  hush  that  suddenly  came  upon  the  court  as  the  curtain 
which  hung  before  the  door  of  the  room  where  the  jury 
were  sitting  was  drawn  back,  and  every  eye  was  turned  in 
that  direction  in  the  expectation  of  seeing  the  jury  file  in. 

It  was  only  the  sergeant-at-arms,  however,  with  a  message 
to  the  Judge ;  and  a  rumor  began  to  run  round  to  the  ef- 
fect that  the  jury  were  unable  to  agree. 

Everybody  felt  this  as  a  personal  offence,  a  mean  trick  to 
rob  him  of  the  legitimate  climax  to  his  excitement.  And 
the  murmur  of  tongues  rose  again  immediately. 

The  Jew  turned  once  more  to  his  neighbor.  "  It's  lucky 
for  the  lady  the  insurance  offices  didn't  prosecute!"  said  he. 

"  As  it  is,  I  suppose,  sir,  they'll  have  to  pay  up  if  the 
jury  bring  it  in  'Not  guilty'?" 

"  More  likely  to  compromise  it,  I  think.  For  it  seems  to 
be  known  that  the  Daxes  were  hard  up.  And  if  they  let 
him  off  on  the  graver  charge,  they  would  be  all  the  more 
likely  to  convict  on  the  lesser  one,  just  to  keep  the  balance 
even,"  said  the  Jew  shrewdly. 

The  murmur  of  voices  in  the  court  was  gradually  increas- 
ing to  a  hubbub.  The  butterflies  about  the  bench,  all  of 
whom,  to  a  woman,  thought  the  prisoner  less  guilty  than 
his  wife,  became  less  guarded  in  their  speech,  and  exchanged 
innuendoes  concerning  the  cost  of  Mrs.  Dax's  dress  and  the 
means  whereby  it  was  paid  for.  Yet  at  the  same  time  they 
were  indulgent,  recognizing  the  fact  that  Liverpool  had 
been  proud  of  her,  as  quite  one  of  the  most  creditable  of  the 
2 


18  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

local  products.  Had  she  not  moved  in  the  best  society  of 
Liverpool?  And  what  could  be  better  than  Liverpool's 
best? 

Suddenly  the  hum  of  these  pretty  bees  ceased,  and  in  a 
dead  silence  the  judge  returned  to  his  seat  on  the  bench, 
the  jury  filed  in  and  took  their  places  in  the  box,  and  the 
prisoner,  who  was  by  this  time  as  pale  as  death  and  in  a 
half-fainting  condition,  was  half-led,  half-carried  into  the 
dock.  At  the  same  moment  the  prisoner's  wife,  with  her 
veil  down,  walked  with  a  dignified  and  erect  carriage  into 
court,  and  resumed  her  old  seat,  with  a  graceful  bend  of  the 
head  to  the  solicitor,  who  made  way  for  her. 

There  was  a  moment's  hush,  so  that  a  man,  shutting  his 
eyes,  might  have  fancied  himself  on  a  desert  island.  Then 
the  Judge  addressed  the  jury  in  the  well  known  words: 

"Gentlemen,  have  you  agreed  upon  a  verdict?" 

"We  have,  my  lord,"  replied  the  foreman. 

"  Do  you  find  the  prisoner  guilty  or  not  guilty?" 

"Not  guilty,  my  lord." 

And  while  the  prisoner  burst  into  tears  and  sobbed  like  a 
woman,  the  buzz  in  the  court  began  again. 

The  prisoner's  wife  raised  her  veil,  but  she  did  not  look  at 
her  husband.  She  seemed  to  be  listening,  listening  to  the 
hum  around  her,  to  the  babble  of  indistinguishable  words. 
Then,  when  the  ushers  called  for  "Silence!"  she  looked  at 
them.  And  finally  her  glance  fell  upon  one  of  her  friends, 
who,  from  the  end  of  the  bench  by  the  grand- jury  box,  was 
nodding  and  smiling  congratulations. 

And  the  prisoner's  wife  smiled  back. 

" How  well  she  bears  up!"  thought  the  men. 

"How  brazen  she  is!"  thought  the  women. 

There  was  silence  while  the  Judge  addressed  a  few  words 
of  rather  ambiguous  congratulation  to  the  acquitted  man, 
and  then  the  court  was  adjourned  until  the  following  morn- 


THE  VERDICT.  19 

ing,  and  the  crowd  began  to  flow  out,  still  discussing  with 
excitement  the  verdict  just  given. 

The  prisoner  had  hardly  disappeared  when  a  rush  was 
made  from  the  other  end  of  the  court  into  the  street,  with 
the  object  of  getting  a  look  at  the  released  man  as  he  left 
the  building. 

In  the  mean  time  Mrs.  Dax  was  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of 
congratulating  friends,  who  insisted,  some  on  shaking 
hands  only,  some  on  giving  her  the  meaningless  feminine 
kiss. 

"  So  glad  it's  all  over !  Not  that  there  was  any  real  need 
to  be  anxious,  of  course;  but  still  it  was  most  dreadfully  try- 
ing, especially  for  you,  dear!" 

"  Thank  you  so — so  much !  Yes,  it  was  very  dreadful, 
of  course,  only  I  was  so  sure  his  innocence  must  be  proved," 
said  Mrs.  Dax,  who  had  lifted  her  veil,  displaying  a  hand- 
some dark-skinned  face,  brilliant  black  eyes,  and  cheeks 
bright  with  the  color  brought  by  intense  excitement. 

"Ah,  my  dear,"  croaked  an  elderly  lady,  who  thought 
Mrs.  Dax  was  geting  off  a  great  deal  too  easily,  "  but  even 
innocent  persons  get  convicted  sometimes.  I  think  you 
take  the  matter  altogether  too  lightly,  and  that  you  ought 
to  be  humbly  giving  thanks  for  your — I  mean  for  your  hus- 
band's escape." 

Just  for  two  seconds  the  bright  color  in  the  face  of  Mrs. 
Dax  faded  a  little. 

"I  am  thankful,  indeed,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  that  trem- 
bled slightly. 

Another  lady,  with  more  feeling  or  more  tact,  broke  in : 
"  Of  course  she's  thankful,  only  she  doesn't  want  to  make 
a  scene  for  the  benefit  of  the  jurymen.  It  wouldn't  do  for 
you  to  break  down  when  you  have  poor  Linley  to  comfort, 
would  it,  Netelka?" 

Mrs.  Dax  started. 


20  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  I — I  must  go  to  him !"  she  faltered,  with  a  sudden  scared 
look.  And  withdrawing  herself  with  a  final  hasty  handshake 
from  the  gossiping  group,  Mrs.  Dax  walked  quickly  out  of 
the  court,  everybody  making  way  for  her  as  she  went. 

The  remaining  ladies  looked  at  each  other.  "  I  shouldn't 
like  to  have  as  much  on  my  conscience  as  she  has!  "  mur- 
mured one  of  them,  with  piously  uplifted  eyes. 

"Sh — sh,  it  isn't  fair  to  say  that,"  interrupted  another 
lady,  with  a  moving  sense  that  Mrs.  Dax  was  not  given  fair 
play.  "  I  hope  we  should  none  of  us  have  shaken  hands 
with  her  if  we  really  believed  anything — like  that!"  she 
ended  with  convenient  vagueness. 

"  I  don't  know.  It's  nice  to  be  able  to  say  you've  shaken 
hands  with  a  real " 

She  stopped  at  the  word  which  was  on  her  lips,  and  fin- 
ished with  a  gentle  sigh:  "Poor  Linley!" 

Then  the  woman  who  had  been  the  only  rival  worth  speak- 
ing of  in  dress  and  appearance  to  Mrs.  Dax  spoke  for  the 
first  time.  She  could  afford  to  be  generous  now. 

"If  all  of  it  that  people  hinted  had  been  true,"  said  she 
gravely,  "  I  for  one  should  have  shaken  hands  with  her  just 
the  same." 

And  thus,  some  with  real  feeling  in  their  hearts,  and  some 
with  only  the  feigned  expression  of  it  on  their  lips,  the 
group  of  well-dressed  women  melted  away,  as  one  by  one  they 
got  into  their  broughams  and  drove  home  to  dinner. 

Mrs.  Dax  found  the  carriage  of  the  woman  who  had  been 
her  rival  waiting  for  her  outside.  The  footman  came  up  to 
her  with  the  message  from  his  mistress  that  it  was  at  the 
service  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dax  as  long  as  they  pleased.  Her 
lip  trembled,  and  for  the  first  time  that  day  her  handsome 
eyes  grew  moist  as  she  stepped  inside  the  landau. 

She  drew  back  hastily,  as  there  was  a  rush  of  roughs,  well- 
dressed  and  other,  to  the  door  of  the  carriage.  A  crowd 


THE  VERDICT.  21 

of  faces,  agape  with  coarse,  hideous  curiosity,  instantly 
blocked  the  window.  "With  a  gesture  of  passionate,  fierce 
indignation,  Netelka  threw  herself  hack  into  the  corner, 
hiding  herself  as  well  as  she  could.  A  horrihle  sound,  a  sort 
of  growl  of  execration  and  of  baffled  curiosity,  reached  her 
ears.  And  louder  than  this,  words,  insulting,  coarse, 
angry,  the  expression  of  the  pent-up  feeling  of  the  crowd. 

"Ar-r-r-r-r!  She  does  well  to  hide  her  face,  the  slut! 
The  hussy !  It's  her  they  ought  to  put  in  the  dock !  Ar-r-r-r ! 
The  thief!  The  murderess!" 

Netelka  heard  these  words;  they  fell  upon  her  ears  like 
bullets  out  of  a  cloud  of  smoke.  She  sat  up  again,  panting, 
with  starting  eyeballs. 

" Do  they  say  that?     That?" 

She  clinched  her  hands ;  she  set  her  teeth ;  for  no  one 
could  deny  this  woman  the  attribute  of  courage ;  she  was 
game  to  the  last.  But  before  she  could  do  more  than  face 
her  enemies,  the  carriage  drove  on.  Then  Netelka  drew 
back  again  as  the  landau  passed  through  the  gates,  by  di- 
rection of  the  police,  to  the  prisoner's  entrance.  Here  the 
carriage  door  was  quickly  opened  by  two  stalwart  consta- 
bles. In,  rather  than  on,  their  arms  they  were  supporting 
the  shivering,  helpless  form  of  the  released  prisoner,  her 
husband. 

They  put  him  into  the  carriage,  shut  the  door  quickly,  and 
told  the  coachman  to  drive  on. 

And  for  the  first  time  since  the  arrest  of  Linley  Dax, 
husband  and  wife  were  alone  together. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HUSBAND   AND  WIFE. 

THE  sky  was  darkening  toward  night  and  the  weather 
was  turning  colder  as  Linley  Dax,  a  free  man  once  more, 
drove  with  his  wife  through  the  streets  of  Liverpool. 

Ever  since  they  had  left  the  gates  of  St.  George's  Hall 
there  had  been  dead  silence  between  them,  he  leaning  back 
in  his  corner  of  the  big  carriage,  she  sitting  upright  and 
motionless  in  hers. 

"Where  are  we  going?"  she  said  at  last. 

At  the  question,  Linley  gave  a  little  sob. 

"I  thought  you  were  never  going  to  speak  to  me!"  he 
cried  piteously.  "I  thought,  Netta,  that  you  hadn't  a 
word  of  kindness  for  me,  after  all  I've  gone  through !" 

Any  one  who  had  overheard  this  speech,  and  who  had  at 
the  same  time  been  able  to  see  the  faces  of  husband  and  wife 
and  to  note  well  their  appearance  and  manner,  would  have 
thought  the  poor  man  hardly  used  indeed  by  a  cold,  unsym- 
pathetic wife,  who,  now  that  misfortune  had  fallen  upon 
her  husband,  had  nothing  but  frowns  for  him  and  harsh, 
heartless  silence.  Even  after  his  pathetic  appeal  to  her 
feelings,  Netelka  Dax  hesitated  some  moments  before  re- 
plying. When  she  spoke,  her  voice  sounded  harsh,  although 
at  the  same  time  it  was  evident  that  she  was  trying  hard  to 
express  more  kindness  than  she  felt. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  you,  Linley, "  she  said.  "  Very  sorry 
indeed.  It — it  must  have  been  a  dreadful,  dreadful  time 
for  you,  as" — her  voice  shook — "  as  it  has  been  for  me." 

At  this  expression  of  sympathy,  slightly  lukewarm  as  it 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE.  23 

was,  Linley  gave  another  sob  and,  drawing  nearer  to  her, 
thrust  his  hand  through  her  arm  and  laid  his  head  upon 
her  shoulder. 

"  Oh,  oh !"  he  moaned,  "  you  don't  know  how  dreadful  it 
has  been !  To  begin  with,  the  drains  of  the  place  are  all 
wrong,  I'm  sure.  The  stuffiness  was  something  awful. 
Then  there  was  a  rat  or  a  mouse,  or  something,  scrape, 
scrape,  scraping  all  night  behind  the  wall,  so  that  I  couldn't 
get  any  sleep.  And  as  for  the  eggs  they  gave  me,  why, 
Netta,  they  were  twenty  a  shilling,  I'm  sure !  Ugh !  It 
was  a  hole!  " 

Netelka  listened  with  staring  eyes.  She  had  let  Linley 
take  her  hand,  and  he  was  now  occupied  in  unbuttoning 
the  long  black  gloves  she  wore,  so  that  he  might  press  his 
lips  upon  the  delicate  wrist  underneath. 

"  Oh !"  he  exclaimed  rapturously,  not  apparently  heeding 
the  fact  that  she  was  receiving  his  caresses  much  as  a  statue 
would  have  done,  "  you  are  so  nice  and  warm !  And  I'm 
so  cold.  Let  me  put  my  hands  in  your  muff,  dear." 

"  Oh,  yes!"  stammered  Netelka,  as  she  unhooked  the  thin 
black  cord  which  held  her  muff  and  gave  it  quickly  to  him. 
As  she  did  so,  she  glanced  at  his  face  with  a  frightened  ex- 
pression. 

"Don't  look  at  me  like  that,  Netta!"  cried  he,  in  a  gen- 
tle but  aggrieved  tone.  "What's  the  matter  with  you, 
dear?  You  are  changed;  you  are  unkind  to  me!  One 
would  think  you  were  sorry  to  have  me  back  again !" 

"  Oh,  no,  no, "  exclaimed  Netelka,  catching  her  breath. 

"  Give  me  a  kiss,  then,  and  say  you're  sorry  for  treating 
me  so  badly.  You  seem  quite  cold  this  evening ;  and  you 
know  the  reason  why  I  love  you  is  that  you  are  never  cold, 
never  in  the  sulks,  like  other  women." 

Netelka  let  him  kiss  her ;  but  this  was  not  what  he  had 
asked  for. 


24  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Kiss  me,  kiss  me,"  he  said  imperiously,  putting  his  arm 
around  her,  and  drawing  her  passive  form  close  to  his. 
"  Why  are  you  behaving  like  this,  Netta?  What  have  they 
been  saying  to  you  ?  Have  you  lost  all  feeling  for  your  poor 
old  man  just  because  he's  down  on  his  luck?" 

Netelka  trembled.  Turning  suddenly  towards  him,  trans- 
formed in  one  moment  from  an  icicle  into  a  living,  breath- 
ing woman,  palpitating  with  human  passions,  with  tender, 
womanly  hopes  and  fears,  she  seized  his  arms,  and  holding 
them  firmly  so  that  he  could  not  move,  she  gazed  into  his 
face  with  burning  eyes. 

"Linley,  Linley,"  she  exclaimed  in  a  hoarse  whisper, 
"  tell  me  about  it.  Tell  me  it  isn't  true.  You  know  what 
I  mean,"  she  went  on  hurriedly,  as  she  saw  his  lips  open  to 
frame  the  evasive  little  protest  and  exclamations  with  which 
he  wished  to  silence  her.  "  Tell  me  how  it  happened,  and 
that  what  they  say — the  dreadful  things  they  say — are  not 
true,  not  true!"  she  ended  with  a  little  shriek. 

Linley  shook  his  head  wearily  from  side  to  side. 

"Keally,  Netta,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  be  so  explosive!" 
cried  he,  with  a  sigh.  "  What  is  it  you  want  to  know?  Say 
it  right  out  and  have  done  with  it.  Did  I  kill  the  man? 
Is  that  what  you  mean?" 

He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  almost  childish  surprise  and  impa- 
tience, which  shocked  Netelka  and  made  her  shudder.  It 
seemed  to  throw  all  the  burden  of  suspicion  upon  her  own 
wicked  mind.  She  dropped  his  arm,  and  drew  away  from 
him. 

"Oh,  Linley,  don't!"  she  whispered. 

But  he  persisted,  bringing  his  face  close  to  hers,  trying 
to  meet  her  eyes,  and  drawing  her  hands  again  into  his  own 
affectionately. 

"Don't  what?  You  are  a  silly  girl!  I  can't  make  you 
out  at  all.  Here  I  had  been  looking  forward  to  meeting  you 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE.  25 

again,  saying  to  myself  that  it  would  be  all  right  when 
I  was  once  back  with  you ;  that  I  should  forget  all  my 
troubles  and  the  downright  beastly  time  I've  had.  And 
instead  of  that,  instead  of  that,"  repeated  he,  working 
himself  up  to  a  pitch  of  great  self-pity,  "you  must 
needs  go  and  be  explosive,  and  even  what,  if  it  were  any 
one  but  you,  I  should  call  downright  hard  and  unsympa- 
thetic." 

All  this  time  his  wife  was  looking  at  him  fixedly,  trying 
to  disentangle  the  impressions  of  sense  and  reason.  She  had 
argued  the  whole  matter  out  with  herself,  brooding  over  it, 
turning  it  about  in  her  mind,  while  he  was  in  prison.  And 
the  same  conclusion,  no  matter  from  what  point  of  view  she 
approached  the  terrible  subject,  had  always  forced  itself 
upon  her  mind.  Yet  now  that  her  husband  was  once  more 
beside  her,  speaking  to  her  in  the  old  affectionate  tones,  ca- 
ressing her  as  before  with  his  effeminately  white  hands,  beg- 
ging her  piteously  to  be  kind  to  him,  she  began  to  believe 
that  all  her  terrible  deductions  must  have  been  wrong,  and 
that  her  husband  might  be  indeed  the  innocent  man  the  law 
had  just  pronounced  him  to  be. 

This  view  opened  out  to  her  so  suddenly,  so  radiantly  that 
it  turned  her  head  and  made  her  delirious  with  joy. 

Her  husband  saw,  even  while  he  was  speaking  in  the 
sweetest  tones  of  a  peculiarly  sweet  voice  his  words  of  affec- 
tionate remonstrance  into  her  ear,  the  revulsion  of  feeling 
that  was  coming.  But  even  he  was  scarcely  prepared  for 
the  absolute  violence  with  which,  when  he  ceased  speaking, 
she  flung  herself  upon  him. 

"  Oh,  Linley,  do  forgive  me,  do  forgive  me,"  she  pleaded 
passionately.  "  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself ;  I  am 
ashamed  of  myself,  but — but  it  all  seemed  to  fit  in  so  hor- 
ribly, what  I  knew  and  what  they  said,  that — that  I  began 
to  think — I  began  to  be  afraid " 


26  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Well,  we  won't  talk  about  it!"  interrupted  Linley  ab- 
ruptly, shivering  a  little. 

But  his  wife's  self-abasement  was  too  great  for  her  to  be 
satisfied  without  some  nearer  approach  than  this  to  a  "  little  ? 
scene." 

She  felt  that  her  atonement  must  equal  in  intensity  the 
offence  which  had  called  it  forth. 

"  Oh,  but  I  must  tell  you,  I  must,  and  then  we'll  never 
speak  of  it  again,"  she  cried,  plucking  nervously  at  the 
sleeve  of  his  coat,  so  that  he  presently  gently  put  her  hand 
away  and  smoothed  the  cloth  to  counteract  the  damage  in- 
flicted by  her  fingers. 

"  Why  not  skip  the  stage  of  telling  me,  and  come  to  that 
of  never  speaking  of  it  again?"  he  asked  with  a  dryness  which 
in  the  midst  of  her  excitement  gave  her  a  sudden  chill. 

It  was  with  a  manner  the  exuberance  of  which,  therefore, 
was  slightly  subdued  that  she  said :  "  You  must  know  how 
it  was,  or  else  you  will  never  be  able  to  understand  and 
forgive  me." 

"Yes,  yes,  I'll  forgive  you  anything,  if  you'll  only  hold 
your  tongue,  now  and  forever,  about  the  whole  detestable 
business,"  interrupted  Linley  in  a  snarling  tone.  "  Do  you 
think  I  want  to  hear  you  go  over  the  old  ground  again,  after 
all  I've  heard  of  it  the  last  two  days — after  the  way  I've 
had  it  dinned  into  me,  till  I  couldn't  get  any  rest  or  any 
peace  for  thinking  of  it,  and  wondering  what  the  dunder- 
heads in  the  jury-box  would  bring  it  in?  " 

Netelka's  cheeks  grew  paler,  and  her  voice,  as  she  an- 
swered, had  lost  its  bright  ring : 

"  And  you  won't  feel  a  secret  grievance  against  me  for 
believing  for  one  moment  that  it  was  possible  you  might,  in 
a  fit  of  despair " 

"  My  dear  girl,"  broke  in  Linley  again,  and  this  time  his 
tone  was  decidedly  "  nasty,"  "  I  don't  care  a  jot  what  you  do 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE.  27 

believe  or  what  yon  don't  believe  as  long  as  you  will  let  the 
subject  drop  once  and  for  all.  I  tell  you  I'm  sick  of  it.  I 
don't  want  any  explanations  or  apologies  for  thinking  this 
or  that.  I  only  want  a  little  peace.  I  should  think  you 
might  be  able  to  understand  that,  my  dear,"  he  went  on 
less  snappishly,  as  he  noted  a  change  in  the  expression  of 
his  wife's  sensitive  face.  "  How  would  you  feel  yourself 
under  the  circumstances?  Put  yourself  in  my  place." 

"  That's  just  what  people  have  been  suggesting  that  I 
ought  to  do,"  said  Netelka  quietly. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  That  they  say — it  has  been  said,  that — that — that — that 
the — that  what  took  place  was  all  through  me,  all  on  my 
account." 

Linley  listened  to  this  avowal  with  much  interest. 

"  No — do  they  say  that?"  he  said,  almost  eagerly,  his  wife 
thought.  "  What !  do  they  think  I  was  jealous  of  that  fel- 
low, eh?" 

"  Oh,  don't  speak  in  that  tone.     It's  too  dreadful !" 

"Well,  what  is  it  they  say?  You've  been  dying  to  tell 
me  something  I  don't  want  to  hear:  can't  you  get  out  some- 
thing that  I  do?" 

Linley  spoke  with  some  impatience,  and  his  wife  hastened 
to  satisfy  him  : 

"  They  say  you  had  got  into  debt  through  my  extrava- 
gance, and  that  you  had  borrowed  from — from " 

"From  Landon?     Well?" 

"And  that  you  couldn't  pay,  and  that  you  arranged  to 
defraud  the  insurance  offices  by  sending  me  away  with  all 
the  most  valuable  things  in  the  house,  and  then  setting — 
setting  fire  to  the  place." 

"  Why,  that's  only  the  old  story  that's  been  dinned  into 
everybody's  ears  all  these  weeks  !"  said  Linley,  contemptu- 
ously. "I've  heard  all  this  before." 


28  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Well,  but  they  say  it  was  I  who — who  'put  you  up  to 
it. '  And — and — and — you  know,  Linley,  I  really  was  sur- 
prised to  find  what  a  lot  of  luggage  you  made  me  take  away ; 
and — and  I  haven't  unpacked  half  of  the  trunks  yet;  not 
one  of  those  that  you  packed!" 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  replied  the  husband  with  compo- 
sure. "  Where  are  they  now?" 

"  At  my  Aunt  Mary's.  I  wrote  asking  her  if  she  would 
take  care  of  some  things  for  me,  and  she  said  she  would. 
So  I  sent  them  on  to  her " 

"Why  to  her,  of  all  people?  You  know  that  she  detests 
me!" 

Netelka  gave  a  little  smothered  sigh. 

"I  didn't  know  whom  else  to  send  them  to!  You  see 
there  were  so  many  of  them ;  and — and  if  I'd  sent  them  to 
be  warehoused,  I — I — thought  perhaps " 

"  Yes,  yes.  All  right.  Yon  did  quite  right,"  said  Linley 
hastily.  "  There  would  have  been  some  bother  with  these 
insurance  fellows.  You  have  more  sense  than  I  expected, 
Netta.  Only  I'm  afraid  Lady  Kenslow  will  be  'nasty.' ' 

"  Aunt  Mary !  Oh,  no.  She  has  written  me  the  loveli- 
est letters  telling  me  to  come  straight  to  her  when — if — if 
ever  I  should  want  a — want  a  change,"  finished  she,  unwill- 
ing to  let  her  husband  know  that  the  invitation  had  been 
given  in  the  belief  that  Linley  would  be  convicted,  and  that 
his  wife  would  want  a  shelter  from  the  world. 

Linley  frowned.  But  as  at  that  moment  the  carriage 
stopped,  he  only  said,  "  Here  we  are,"  and  let  down  the  win- 
dow. 

Netelka  looked  out.    They  were  at  Edge  Hill  Station. 

"  We  are  going  straight  up  to  town,"  he  explained  briefly. 
"  I  suppose  you  have  some  money?" 

"  A  little.  Enough  to  take  us  up,  but  not  much  more," 
answered  she,  with  a  sudden  access  of  timidity. 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE.  29 

There  was  some  plan  in  her  husband's  mind,  she  could 
see,  which  gave  him  anxiety.  He  did  not  leave  her  long  in 
doubt  as  to  what  it  was. 

"I  must  see  about  the  insurance  at  once,"  said  he. 
"They  always  make  a  fuss  about  paying  up;  but  I  don't  see 
how,  in  tne  face  of  the  verdict,  they  can  do  anything  but 
shell  out." 

Netelka  said  nothing.  Her  husband  was  usually  very  reti- 
cent to  her  about  his  affairs;  on  this,  the  first  occasion  of 
his  entering  into  any  sort  of  discussion  about  them,  she 
heartily  wished  that  he  would  go  back  to  reticence  again. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  STRANGER'S  SYMPATHY. 

LINLEY  had  directed  the  coachman  to  drive  to  Edge  Hill 
Station  so  that  they  might  avoid  the  eager  crowd  of  the  cu- 
rious who  would  certainly  have  collected  to  see  them  off  on 
their  journey  if  they  had  started  from  Lime  Street. 

As  it  was,  however,  one  person  at  least  had  had  the  enter- 
prise to  follow  them  in  a  cab.  This  was  the  Jew,  who  had 
watched  the  trial  with  so  much  interest  from  the  gallery  in 
the  court. 

When  Linley  and  his  wife  had  chosen  the  compartment 
they  intended  to  travel  in,  and  the  lady  had  taken  her  place 
in  one  of  the  two  vacant  corners,  Linley,  who  was  still 
standing  on  the  platform,  felt  a  gentle  touch  upon  his  arm. 
His  nerves  being  still  in  a  somewhat  shaky  condition,  he 
started  and  turned  more  deadly  white  than  before. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  a  rather  guttural  voice  in  his 
ear. 

And  turning,  Linley  found  himself  almost  in  the  embrace 
of  a  dark-faced,  youngish -looking  man,  who  would  have! 
been  very  well  dressed  indeed  but  for  the  fact  that  he  wore 
upon  one  finger  an  enormous  diamond  and  another  in  the  '. 
pearl-colored  satin  scarf  round  his  throat. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  stranger  again,  raising  his 
hat  as  Netelka  leaned  forward  anxiously  at  the  window  of 
the  carriage,  "  but  I  was  in  court  to-day  and  yesterday,  and 
I  could  not  forbear,  meeting  you  here  like  this,  to  congrat- 
ulate you,  sir,  on  your  release.  It  was  an  infamous  charge 


A  STRANGER'S  SYMPATHY.  31 

against  you — I  repeat,  infamous. "  And  again  he  looked  up 
at  the  lady.  "  I  hope  you  will  forgive  the  liberty  I  am  tak- 
ing in  speaking  to  you ;  but  really  I  felt  so  strongly  that 
it  was  a  trumped-up  case  against  you  that  I  had  to  speak. 
Allow  me  to  give  you  my  card.  And  if  there  is  any  way  in 
which  I  can  ever  be  of  service  to  you — and — and  Mrs. 
Dax" — and  again  he  raised  his  hat  effusively  to  Netelka — 
"  I  beg  that  you  will  allow  me  to  do  so.  I  should  consider  it 
a  great  favor,  I  assure  you. " 

He  handed  to  Linley  a  card,  on  which  were  inscribed  the 
words  "Mr.  Harrington  Moseley,"  and  an  address  in  a 
street  off  Piccadilly. 

"  I  am  going  to  town  myself  by  this  train,"  continued  the 
Jew.  "  I  do  hope  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you 
again  before  long." 

Once  more  raising  his  hat,  and  once  more  glancing  at 
Mrs.  Dax,  Mr.  Moseley  retreated  and  jumped  into  another 
compartment,  while  Linley  took  his  place  beside  his 
wife. 

"  Who  was  that?"  asked  she,  apprehensively. 

"I  don't  know.  Some  Hebrew  money-lender,  I  suppose. 
He  hoped  he  might  be  of  service  to  me,  and,"  added  Lin- 
ley, lowering  his  voice  for  her  ear  only,  "  he  offered  his  con- 
gratulations." 

Netelka  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"What  a  horrid-looking  person!"  she  murmured,  as  she 
sat  back  and,  shutting  her  eyes,  pretended  to  sleep. 

Presently  Linley's  voice  in  her  ear  startled  her : 

"  I  shall  leave  you,"  he  whispered,"  at  Lady  Kenslow'sfor 
a  few  days,  until  I  have  settled  with  the  insurance  people 
and  had  time  to  look  about  me." 

"And  you — where  will  you  stay?"  asked  Netelka,  solici- 
tously; "I  would  rather  go  with  you." 

The  idea  of  her  husband,  after  the  severe  strain  of  the  last 


32  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

few  weeks,  going  away  by  himself  penniless,  while  she  would 
have  the  shelter  of  friendly  arms  and  a  pleasant  home,  woke 
all  her  wifely  feelings. 

Forgetting  her  suspicions,  or  ignoring  them,  she  moved 
gently  a  little  nearer  to  him,  and  seeking  his  hand  with  hers, 
under  cover  of  the  wrap  which  she  had  spread  over  the 
knees  of  both,  she  whispered :  "  Oh,  Linley,  you  must  let 
me  come!  You  will  want  some  comforting,  won't  you, 
dear?" 

Though  not  unresponsive,  her  husband  shook  his  head 
and  adhered  to  his  determination,  giving  his  reason. 

"I  shall  date  my  letters  from  Lady  Kenslow's,"  he  ex- 
plained simply,  "  and  you  will  receive  and  bring  me  the 
answers." 

Netelka  was  not  unused  to  her  husband's  ruses,  and  he 
took  her  silence  for  assent. 

"And,  do  you  know,  Netta,"  he  went  on  presently,  still 
in  the  same  low  voice,  "  that  you  must  not  be  surprised  if 
you  have  to  stay  at  Trewithen  Street  some  time;  for  I  think 
the  best  thing  I  can  do,  after  having  had  my  name  dragged 
through  the  mire  in  this  manner,  will  be  to  go  for  a  trip 
to  America,  or  to  Australia,  until  the  beastly  story  has 
been  forgotten." 

Netelka  drew  a  long  breath.  She  did  not  know  exactly 
what  it  was  she  felt  at  this  suggestion :  some  pain  certainly, 
some  bitterness,  some  apprehension.  If  she  had  not  loved 
Linley  passionately  when  she  married  him,  she  had  had, 
during  the  four  years  of  their  married  life,  enough  kindness 
at  his  hands,  enough  wifely  affection  in  her  heart,  to  dread 
the  thought  of  separation.  And  she  had  obtained  by  this 
time  enough  insight  into  Linley 's  character  to  fear  that, 
once  away  from  her,  the  influence  she  had  over  him  would 
die  quickly  out,  and  the  separation  would  become  a  perma- 
nent estrangement.  He  felt  her  clasp  of  his  hand  grow 


A  STRANGER'S  SYMPATHY.  33 

firmer,  warmer,  as  this  disquieting  thought  came  into  her 
mind. 

"Oh,  Linley,"  she  faltered,  "if  you  go  away,  you'll  for- 
get me!" 

"  Nonsense,"  said  he.  "  You  will  be  able  to  cultivate,  in 
my  absence,  that  higher,  more  intellectual  life  I've  heard 
you  say  you  feel  such  a  craving  for.  You  will  be  at  liberty 
to  cultivate  your  'aspirations'  untrammelled  by  my  Philis- 
tinism, my  dear." 

Netelka  flushed  a  little. 

"I've  been  cured  of  them,"  she  said,  rather  shortly,  "if, 
indeed,  I  ever  had  any,"  she  added  with  something  like  a 
stifled  sigh. 

Then  the  subject  dropped  for  a  while ;  but  before  they 
reached  London  he  let  fall  a  remark  which  showed  her  that 
his  mind  was  quite  made  up  on  the  matter:  he  was  going 
out  of  the  country — and  without  her. 

Linley  drove  his  wife  to  Lady  Kenslow's,  but  he  did  not 
even  go  up  to  the  door  with  her.  He  felt  unequal,  at  this 
juncture,  to  a  meeting  with  Aunt  Mary,  who  had  not  only 
strongly  opposed  her  niece's  marriage  with  him,  but  had 
avoided  him  ever  since. 

When  his  wife  had  left  him,  Linley  drove  to  a  quiet  hotel 
near  the  Strand.  As  he  got  out  of  his  hansom,  and  was 
looking  at  the  handful  of  change  he  had  left  after  paying 
the  man  his  fare,  he  became  suddenly  conscious  of  a  He- 
braic countenance  close  to  his.  Looking  up  quickly,  an- 
noyed at  being  caught  in  the  act  of  looking  anxiously  at  the 
few  coins  he  possessed,  Linley  frowned,  and  promptly  turned 
his  back  to  the  smiling  gentleman,  whom  he  recognized  as 
the  Jew  who  had  spoke  to  him  at  Edge  Hill. 

"Now,  don't  be  offended,  "said  Mr.  Moseley  persuasively, 
following  him  up  unabashed.     "  I  have  a  proposal  to  make 
to  you,  my  dear  sir.     As  I  told  you  before,  I  am  very  much 
3 


34  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

interested  in  your  undeserved  misfortunes,  and  I  should  like, 
if  you  would  let  me,  to  help  you  to  a  fresh  start  in  life." 

Linley  no  longer  looked  at  him  with  haughtiness.  There 
was  something  in  the  Jew's  manner  which  suggested  that 
he  "  meant  business. "  However,  he  would  not  commit  him- 
self to  speech :  he  merely  allowed  himself  to  listen  while  the 
Jew  propounded  his  plan. 

"  There  is  a  way,"  said  Mr.  Moseley,  not  staring  fixedly  at 
Linley,  but  learning  enough  by  an  occasional  glance,  "  by 
which  you  could,  if  you  pleased,  do  me  a  service  and  your- 
self one  at  the  same  time.  I  have  a  furnished  house  at 
Wimbledon,  a  very  big  place,  a  nice  place,  with  servants 
eating  their  heads  off,  and  everything  complete  except  a 
master.  I  can't  make  it  convenient  to  live  there  myself  all 
the  week  through :  I  like  to  run  down  now  and  then,  and 
very  often  from  Saturday  till  Monday.  And  I  couldn't  let 
it  just  at  this  season,  even  if  I  cared  to  give  it  up  altogether. 
Now,  would  you  care  to  become  my  tenant,  rent  free,  for  a 
little  while,  just  to  give  you  time  to  look  about  you,  you 
know?" 

Linley  looked  at  him  with  the  frank  expression  of  the 
man  who  "  wants  to  know." 

"You're  very  kind,"  he  said.  But  there  was  caution 
rather  than  gratitude  in  his  tone.  After  a  pause,  he  went 
on  rather  slowly  and  deliberately :  "  If,  as  you  say,  my  stay- 
ing there  would  really  be  doing  you  a  service,  I  need  not  say 
that  it  would  suit  me  also  for  a  little  while — that  is  to  say, 
until  I  have  had  time  to  look  about  me.  For  I  am  in  a 
state  of  lonely  bachelorhood  just  now " 

Mr.  Moseley's  start  of  dismay  interrupted  him. 

Linley,  looking  up  quickly,  went  on :  "  My  wife  is  stay- 
ing with  relations,  with  Lady  Kenslow,  of  Trewithen  Street, 
in  fact." 

For  a  few  moments  Mr.  Moseley,  looking  frankly  non- 


A  STRANGER'S  SYMPATHY.  35 

plussed,  pulled  his  black  mustache  and  looked  at  his  dia- 
mond ring.     Then  he  said : 

"  Look  here ;  will  you  come  over  to  Scott's  with  me,  and 
have  some  champagne,  and  something  to  eat?  I  don't  sup- 
pose you've  been  in  the  humor  to  eat  much  to-day,"  he 
added,  without  much  tact. 

Linley  shivered,  but  he  consented  to  the  proposition,  and 
drove  off  in  a  hansom  with  his  benevolent  new  friend. 

Next  day  Linley  Dax  met  his  wife,  by  appointment,  at 
Charing  Cross  Station.  He  was  in  very  good  spirits,  and 
extremely  affectionate.  Netelka  looked  at  him  warily,  not- 
ing certain  signs  in  his  manner  portending  that  he  had 
something  to  say  to  her  that  she  would  not  care  to  hear. 

"Well,  my  darling,"  said  he  with  tenderness,  as  they 
walked  up  and  down  one  of  the  less  crowded  platforms,  "  I 
think  it  will  not  be  necessary  for  us  to  separate,  after  all. " 

Without  expressing  premature  elation,  Netelka  glanced 
at  him  and  prepared  to  listen. 

"I've  been  offered  the  loan  of  a  lovely  house  at  Wimble- 
don, a  place  with  stables  and  all,  so  that  you  can  have  your 
carriage  again,  and  where  we  can  be  close  to  town  and  all 
the  fun  of  it,  and  yet  not  be  too  near  to  its  fog  and  noise. 
How  do  you  like  the  idea  of  that?" 

"  But  Linley,  I  don't  understand.  Where's  the  money 
to  come  from  to  keep  it  up?" 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  the  place  was  to  be  lent  us?"  said 
Linley  impatiently.  "  It  is  to  be  just  as  if  it  were  our  own, 
just  as  if  we  had  bought  the  place  outright.  Nobody  will 
know  us,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  enjoy  ourselves  quietly 
without  being  stared  at  as  if  we  were  stuffed,  which  we 
should  be  if  we  were  known." 

"  But  our  name — it's  so  uncommon !"  stammered  Ne- 
telka. "  People  would  be  sure  to  find  us  out.  And  then — 
oh! " 


36  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Instinctively  she  clasped  her  hands,  as  if  in  despair. 

"We're  going  to  avoid  all  the  risk  of  that,"  anwered  he 
quietly,  "  by  changing  it.  We  shall  be  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hil- 
liard." 

Netelka  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"And  who  is  going  to  lend  the  house  to  us?"  she  asked 
suddenly,  after  a  pause. 

"Oh,"  answered  Linley  very  quickly,  hurrying  over  this 
equivocal  point,  "  the  little  man  who  gave  me  his  card  as 
we  were  leaving  Liverpool.  Good-hearted  little  chap,  he 
seems!"  he  ended  in  a  would-be  light  tone. 

Then  there  was  dead  silence. 

"Well,"  asked  Linley  at  last,  rather  querulously. 

"  Whatr— is  he  doing  it  for?" 

"How  should  I  know?"  said  Linley  snappishly.  "He's 
a  good-natured  fellow,  I  tell  you,  and  he  wants  somebody 
to  'keep  the  house  warm,'  as  he  says." 

There  was  another  pause  before  she  asked,  in  a  very  low 
voice : 

"  Won't  you  let  me  stay — with  Aunt  Mary?  You  won't 
be  so  very  far  off,  at  Wimbledon,  will  you?" 

Linley's  white  face  turned  livid,  as  it  did  when  he  was 
deeply  annoyed. 

"  If  I  have  to  go  to  Wimbledon  without  you,  or  rather 
if,  because  you  will  not  go  to  Wimbledon  with  me,  I  have 
to  go  somewhere  else,  I  will  never  come  near  you  again." 

Again  there  was  silence,  broken  by  the  sound  of  a  stifled 
sob  from  Netelka.  Her  emotion  had  no  effect  upon  her  hus- 
band, unless,  indeed,  it  irritated  him. 

"  Well,  will  you  come  with  me  to  Wimbledon?"  he  asked 
at  last  in  a  grating  voice. 

"  Yes — of  course — I  must."  There  was  a  plaintive  note 
of  despair  in  the  wife's  submission. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  LITTLE  NEW  HOUSE  AND  THE  BIO  OLD  ONE. 

ON  high  ground,  and  close  to  the  pleasantest  part  of  Wim- 
bledon Common,  stands  that  picturesque  old  house,  "  The 
Firs."  Strange  to  say,  there  really  are  firs  to  be  found  on 
the  grounds  which  surround  the  house,  protected  from  the 
gaze  of  the  vulgar  by  a  very  high  and  very  massive  brick 
wall,  supported  by  bulging  buttresses,  and  overgrown  with 
clumps  of  moss  and  bushes  of  ivy.  A  large,  comfortable- 
looking  house  of  mellow  red  brick,  with  a  tiny  turret  on  the 
top,  in  which  hung  a  rusty  bell.  ISTetelka  thought,  when  she 
saw  it  for  the  first  time,  that  she  could  have  loved  the  place 
if  she  had  come  to  it  in  happier  circumstances. 

As  it  was,  her  mind  was  too  much  occupied  by  conjec- 
tures as  to  the  reason  of  Mr.  Moseley's  liberality  for  her  to 
feel  any  pleasure  in  her  new  home.  It  was  rather  startling 
to  find,  at  the  outset,  that  there  had  been  misrepresentation 
on  the  part  of  the  owner ;  for,  while  he  had  described  it 
as  being  in  thorough  order,  with  a  large  household  of  ser- 
vants, Netelka  found  it  inhabited  only  by  one  cantankerous 
old  woman,  who  had  lived  up  to  her  character  of  caretaker 
by  neglecting  the  house  in  her  charge  with  unmistakable 
thoroughness.  The  handsomely  furnished  rooms  were  damp 
and  musty,  proving  that  she  had  neither  opened  the  win- 
dows nor  lit  fires  during  the  year  and  a  half  she  admitted 
having  spent  there.  The  mice  ran  about  the  rooms,  and 
the  spiders  hung  their  webs  in  the  corners  without  interfer- 
ence from  anybody. 

Netelka,  the  most  particular  of  housekeepers,  was  ap- 


38  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

palled.  There  was  so  much  to  do  that  it  seemed  impossible 
that  anything  should  ever  get  done.  Mr.  Moseley  had,  in- 
deed, engaged  a  cook,  three  maids,  and  a  man-servant,  "  on 
behalf,"  as  he  expressed  it,  "of  his  tenants;"  but  Netelka 
had  unwisely  not  waited  for  their  coming. 

The  young  wife  was,  in  truth,  so  miserable  as  to  be  rest- 
less. She  had  consulted  her  aunt  about  this  offer  of  the 
house  and  Linley's  threat.  Lady  Kenslow  had  listened  with 
a  stolid  face,  had  offered  no  suggestion  as  to  Moseley's  rea- 
sons, but  had  emphatically  advised  Netelka  to  go  with  her 
husband. 

"  It  is  not  only,  my  dear,"  she  had  said,  "  that  I  hold  old- 
fashioned  notions  that  a  husband  should  cleave  to  his  wife, 
and  a  wife  to  her  husband.  Leave  the  sentiment  and  the 
religious  obligation  out  of  the  question,  you  will  still  find 
that  in  practice  it  works  best,  especially  for  the  wife,  for 
the  couple  to  keep  together." 

"Even  if,"  suggested  Netelka  with  hesitation,  "the  hus- 
band's conduct  should  be  such  as — to  seem  very  strange, 
and — incomprehensible?" 

"Even  if,"  replied  Lady  Kenslow  tranquilly,  "his  con- 
duct should  seem  to  his  wife  absolutely  wrong." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Netelka  wondered  what  her 
aunt  knew  or  guessed  concerning  Linley.  There  had  been 
absolute  silence  between  the  two  ladies  on  the  subject  of  the 
trial ;  and  Lady  Kenslow,  who  had  vehemently  opposed  her 
niece's  marriage,  was  now  just  as  emphatic  in  her  recom- 
mendations to  Netelka  to  stand  by  her  husband. 

"Aunt,"  she  said  presently,  looking  curiously  at  the  face 
of  the  elder  lady,  who  kept  her  eyes  upon  her  work,  "  I  wish 
you'd  speak  out,  and  tell  me  what  you  think  about — 
about " 

"One — two — three — four — five  treble,  one  chain  to 
turn,"  murmured  Lady  Kenslow.  "  About  what,  my  dear?" 


THE  NEW  HOUSE  AND  THE  OLD  ONE.  39 

Netelka  moved  her  shoulders  impatiently. 

"Well,  about  Linley,  for  one  thing?" 

"  One  double  in  the  next  chain.  Why  trouble  your  head, 
my  dear,  about  opinions  which  you  might  not  care  to  hear? 
Why  not  be  satisfied  with  my  advice,  since  you  acknowledge 
in  your  heart  that  it  is  good  ?  I  say  again,  don't  ask  your- 
self whether  what  Linley  does  is  right  or  wrong:  you  have 
chosen  him  to  go  through  life  with;  and  the  world  will 
think  better  of  you,  and  you  will  think  better  of  yourself,  if 
you  stick  to  him  to  the  end.  Now,  don't  bother  me  or  your- 
self by  asking  for  any  reasons,  because  I  shan't  say  any  more. 
Now  we'll  have  tea." 

And  this  was  all  the  comfort,  all  the  advice,which  Netelka 
had  been  able  to  obtain  from  her  usually  sympathetic  aunt. 

After  the  first  few  horrible  days  of  confusion,  and  mud- 
dle, and  cleaning  up  at  "The  Firs,"  Netelka  began  to  see 
that  there  was  something  in  Aunt  Mary's  advice.  She  had 
Jess  time  to  brood  over  her  troubles  and  her  fears  than  she 
would  have  had  in  Lady  Kenslow's  tranquil  little  household, 
where  she  had  no  duties,  and  where,  therefore,  time  had 
hung  heavy  on  her  hands.  She  began  to  interest  herself  in 
the  progress  the  servants  made  toward  producing  order  and 
cleanliness  out  of  chaos  and  dirt. 

In  the  mean  time  she  saw  little  of  Linley.  Sometimes  he 
would  come  down  late  in  the  day  and  spend  the  night  at 
"  The  Firs,"  but  more  often  he  would  telegraph  to  tell  her 
that  business  detained  him  in  town.  When  he  did  come, 
however,  he  was  perfectly  kind  and  cheerful,  and  spoke 
hopefully  of  his  prospects  of  getting  "  at  least  something 
out  of  the  insurance  companies ;"  and  lastly,  she  was  thank- 
ful to  hear  and  to  see  nothing  whatever  of  Mr.  Harrington 
Moseley. 

Very  early  in  her  stay  at  "  The  Firs"  Netelka  was  called 
upon  by  her  nearest  neighbor.  This  was  a  lady  of  between 


40  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

thirty  and  forty  years  of  age,  with  a  tall,  slight  figure  and 
beautiful  golden  hair,  rather  girlish  in  her  dress  and  decid- 
edly old-girlish  in  her  manner;  a  good-natured,  restless, 
foolish  creature,  for  whom  centuries  would  not  have  been 
enough  for  her  to  "grow  up"  in.  She  had  light  eyes,  ever- 
parted  lips,  and  a  perpetual  and  meaningless  smile  on  her 
pink  features.  She  was  "  so  delighted"  to  have  Mrs.  Hil- 
liard  for  a  neighbor,  "  quite  charmed"  at  finding  her  at 
home,  and  "  desperately  annoyed"  because  her  eldest  daugh- 
ter was  too  shy  to  come  with  her  on  this  call.  She  implored 
Mrs.  Hilliard  to  make  any  use  of  her  she  pleased,  and  of- 
fered to  come  and  help  her  in  any  way  that  she  could,  and 
ended  by  entreating  Netelka  to  come  in  to  tea. 

"  It's  only  next  door,  you  know,"  she  went  on  coaxingly. 
"  We  live  in  that  little  cottage  on  the  right,  built  expressly 
to  show  off  the  size  and  the  beauty  of  your  big  house.  So 
you  really  can't  say  no,  you  know,  or  it  will  look  as  if  you 
were  giving  yourself  airs  on  the  strength  of  the  difference!" 

Netelka  did  one  afternoon  avail  herself  of  Mrs.  Colliug- 
ham's  invitation.  She  felt  lonely,  and  she  wanted  to  see 
the  pretty  children  whom  she  had  met  out  with  their  peram- 
bulator, and  the  big  girls  she  had  heard  about. 

Mrs.  Collingham's  house  was  very  small,  very  new,  very 
red,  and  so  much  broken  up  by  turrets,  and  gables,  and 
Tudor  chimneys,  and  fanciful  windows  of  all  shapes  and 
sizes  that  you  were  a  little  puzzled,  in  looking  at  it,  as  to  the 
architect's  meaning.  It  had  all  the  latest  improvements: 
electric  bells,  which  had  long  ceased  to  ring,  since  nobody 
ever  thought  of  recharging  them ;  elaborate  moulded  fire- 
places, painted  with  various  colors, which  didn't  "go  with" 
anything  else  in  the  rooms;  and  a  charming  heating  appa- 
ratus for  the  bath  (a  new  patent  which  exploded  every  win- 
ter with  the  utmost  regularity). 

In  spite  of  Mrs.  Collingham's  entreaties  that  Mrs.  Hil- 


THE  NEW  HOUSE  AND  THE  OLD  ONE.  41 

liard  would  "not  stand  upon  ceremony,"  but  come  in  just 
when  she  felt  inclined  to  do  so,  Netelka  could  not  but  be 
conscious  of  a  certain  scurrying  and  bustling,  of  a  certain 
excitement  and  general  sense  of  something  having  hap- 
pened, which  always  characterizes  the  arrival  of  a  visitor 
at  a  small  house  filled  by  a  large  family.  Netelka  wished 
that  she  had  not  taken  Mrs.  Collinghm  at  her  word,  but 
that  she  had  waited  for  the  "  first  and  third  Thursdays"  in- 
scribed on  that  lady's  card,  when  she  would  have  found  the 
housemaid  with  a  clean  cap,  the  pail  and  sweeping-broom 
hidden  away  in  the  cupboard,  the  children  locked  in  the 
nursery,  and  the  whole  establishment  wearing  an  air  of  state 
befitting  the  occasion. 

As  it  was,  she  could  not  help  feeling  that  she  was  in  the 
way  when  she  heard  them  wake  up  Major  Collingham  from 
his  nap  and  bundle  him  out  of  the  drawing-room,  while  she 
was  stepping  over  a  baby  in  the  hall. 

Mrs.  Collingham,  however,  was  so  unfeignedly  glad  to 
see  her  that  Netelka  soon  recovered  from  the  slight  feeling 
of  embarrassment  occasioned  by  these  untoward  accidents, 
and  the  Major  having  re-entered  the  room  after  brushing 
his  dyed  hair  carefully  over  the  bald  space  on  his  head,  they 
all  chatted  very  pleasantly  about  nothing  in  particular  until 
tea  was  brought  in. 

Then,  unluckily,  another  regretable  incident  occurred. 
Major  Collingham  had  just  woke  up  sufficiently  to  begin 
telling  one  of  his  best  stories,  when  the  door  of  the  back 
drawing-room  was  burst  open,  and  a  tall  and  remarkably 
pretty  young  girl  dashed  ungracefully  in.  She  was  in  walk- 
ing-dress, and  had  evidently  come  in  from  a  struggle  with 
the  wind,  which  had  blown  the  pretty  light  brown  hair  into 
her  eyes,  and  whipped  her  fair  cheeks  until  they  glowed 
like  the  centre  of  a  pale  pink  rose. 

"Oh,  mamma,  what  do  you  think?"  she  began. 


42  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

But  suddenly  perceiving  a  stranger,  she  stopped  short, 
with  a  frightened  look  on  her  face,  and  then  turned  and 
disappeared  with  the  celerity  of  a  rabbit  popping  into  its 
hole. 

Major  Collingham  jumped  up  angrily. 

"Keally,  Marion,  that  girl  is  an  absolute  idiot!  Why 
don't  you  teach  her  to  behave  like  a  civilized  person?  I 
shall  go  and  fetch  her  back  and  make  her  apologize." 

His  wife  sprang  up  and  stopped  him  as  he  was  going  to- 
ward the  door,  while  Netelka  begged  him  not  to  speak  to 
his  daughter  on  her  account. 

"  She  is  only  shy ;  I  was  just  the  same  myself  when  I  was 
a  girl,  and  can  feel  for  her." 

"But  she  has  no  business  to  be  shy:  it's  ill-bred,"  said 
the  Major,  not  yet  calm.  "  As  for  you,  Mrs.  Hilliard,  I  am 
quite  sure  that  you  were  never  shy  in  the  sense  that  that 
girl  is.  I  don't  know  what's  come  over  her  lately,"  he  went 
on  to  his  wife.  "  She  goes  mooning  about  the  place  with- 
out a  word  to  say  for  herself,  starts  when  she  is  spoken  to, 
and  behaves  like  a  Zulu  altogether." 

"My  dear,  don't  be  hard  upon  her,"  returned  his  wife, 
with  some  mysterious  nods  and  looks,  some  directed  to  her 
husband,  and  some  to  the  visitor.  "  She  will  get  all  right 
in  time,  I've  no  doubt.  You  know  what  started  the  mis- 
chief, and  how  resolutely  I  set  my  face  against  what  you 
did  at  the  time." 

"I  haven't  the  least  idea  what  you  mean,"  snapped  the 
Major,  who  did  not  mind  snubbing  his  wife  in  the  intervals 
of  paying  wearisome  compliments  to  the  beautiful  guest. 
"  What  mischief  ?  And  what  did  I  do?  And  at  what  time?" 

Mrs.  Collingham  cast  up  her  eyes,  and  glanced,  with  a 
simper,  at  the  other  lady,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  What  dull 
creatures  these  men  are,  to  be  sure!"  Then  with  a  shrug 
of  the  shoulders  she  said : 


TEE  NEW  HOUSE  AND  THE  OLD  ONE.  43 

"  My  dear,  she's  in  love,  or  thinks  she  is,  which  comes  to 
the  same  thing.  You  know  how  often  I've  told  you  that 
we  women  must  have  some  amusement,  or  we  get  into  mis- 
chief. Well,  you  didn't  provide  the  amusement;  and  so  she 
fell  in  love,  as  I  say,  with  one  of  those  fast  young  fellows 
who  used  to  come  down  to  'The  Firs'  last  year,  before  the 
place  was  shut  up." 

Netelka  blushed  at  this  reference  to  her  new  home,  and 
Mrs.  Collingham  turned,  with  birdlike  rapidity,  to  ex- 
plain. 

"  Oh,  such  dreadful  people  there  used  to  be  at  your  house ! 
Impossible  people,  don't  you  know !  So  that  one  could  only 
shut  one's  eyes  and  pretend  not  to  know  they  were  there." 

"  My  dear  Marion,  what  nonsense  you  talk !  Don't  you 
see  you're  making  Mrs.  Hilliard  quite  uncomfortable?"  in- 
terrupted her  husband.  "I  don't  deny,"  he  went  on,  with 
a  change  to  his  "  irresistible"  manner,  "  that  the  change  of 
tenants  is  very  much  for  the  better;  but  really  the  people 
who  were  there  before  were  not  so  bad  as  my  wife  makes 
out.  A  little  go-ahead  perhaps,  but  nothing  more." 

His  wife  began  to  laugh  affectedly. 

"A  little  go-ahead!  I  should  think  so!  When  it  comes 
to  a  house  being  filled  with  a  party  of  young  men  from  Sat- 
urday till  Monday,  who  keep  the  shutters  shut  and  play 
cards  all  Sunday,  and  who,  when  they  are  seen  in  the 
grounds,  look  anything  but  sober ;  and  when  it  ends  by  the 
house  being  shut  up  by  the  police,  I  should  think  you  would 
call  the  visitors  a  little  go-ahead,  wouldn't  you,  Mrs.  Hil- 
liard?" 

But  Netelka  had  no  reply  ready :  this  revelation  opened 
out  to  her  view  such  alarming  possibilities  that  she  was 
struck  dumb.  However,  the  Major  prevented  any  pause. 

"  Shut  up  by  the  police !  What  nonsense !  You  listen  to 
any  gossip  that's  going.  I'm  sure  some  of  the  lads  who 


44  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

used  to  come  down  were  awfully  nice  fellows,  and  even  the 
Jew  Moseley  was  not  a  bad  sort.  He's  your  landlord,  isn't 
he?" 

And  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Hilliard. 

"I  believe  so.  Yes,"  stammered  Netelka,  as  she  rose 
to  go. 

When  she  was  gone,  Mrs.  Collingham  reproached  her 
husband  mildly,  and  he  reproached  her  viciously,  with  hav- 
ing frightened  away  their  guest. 

"  She  looked  quite  frightened  when  you  bounced  up  from 
your  chair  as  you  did,"  said  Mrs.  Collingham  in  her  flip- 
pant, flighty  tones  of  assumed  girlishness.  "And  I  was 
so  anxious  to  make  a  good  impression  upon  her,  for  she 
dresses  so  charmingly,  and  there  are  so  few  nice  people 
about!" 

"  It  was  your  own  confoundedly  silly  talk  about  the  peo- 
ple who  lived  there  before  that  frightened  her,"  growled 
her  husband.  "  Nobody  likes  to  think  the  house  they  lived 
in  has  been  no  better  than  a  gambling-hell.  And  what  you 
said  was  enough  to  have  frightened  her  away,  if  the  house 
hadn't  been  definitely  taken." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  his  wife  triumphantly,  "you  admit  its 
real  character  now,  do  you?  Ttien  you  used  to  be  angry 
with  me  for  objecting  to  your  going  in  and  losing  your 
money.  I  knew  the  people  who  kept  the  place  were  noth- 
ing better  than  card-sharpers!" 

And  in  the  wrangle  which  followed  about  the  few  pounds 
the  Major  had  lost  over  baccarat  at  "The  Firs,  "the  subject 
of  the  daughter  was  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JEM. 

NETELKA  went  home  with  her  heart  full  of  forebodings. 
"A  gambling  hell!"  This  word  rang  in  her  ears.  Did 
Harrington  Moseley  propose  to  start  it  again,  with  his  new 
tenants  flourished  in  people's  eyes  as  a  blind?  This  expla- 
nation of  his  spontaneous  generosity  seemed  to  her  only  too 
probable  a  one.  She  looked  forward  to  Saturday  with  dread. 
True,  she  had  already  passed  two  Saturdays  undisturbed  by 
visits  either  from  Harrington  Moseley  or  his  friends,  or 
even  by  the  presence  of  her  husband.  But  she  could  not 
expect  this  state  of  things  to  continue. 

When  the  next  Saturday  did  come  round,  a  break  in  the 
monotony  occurred  very  early  in  the  day.  Netelka  had  fin- 
ished breakfast  in  the  pretty  low-ceilingedroomatthe  back 
of  the  house,  when  a  disturbance  in  the  garden  attracted 
her  attention  and  brought  her  to  the  window.  There  was 
a  great  noise  of  scuffling  and  screaming,  of  shouts  in  a  child's 
voice,  of  excited  whispers  in  that  of  a  young  woman.  Then 
a  flying  figure  passed  before  the  window,  and  Netelka  rec- 
ognized the  pretty,  gawky  girl  of  whom  she  had  caught  such 
a  very  fleeting  glimpse  when  she  called  at  "Maisonette." 
This  was  the  name  of  Major  Collingham's  fantastic  little 
house. 

Netelka  opened  the  window  and  went  out  upon  the  ter- 
race so  as  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  intruders,  who  were 
beating  the  bushes  in  the  corner,  and  entreating,  command- 
ing, imploring  some  unseen  creatures  to  "  Come  out,  come 


46  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

out !"  Miss  Collingham  had  her  head  in  a  laurel  bush,  and 
her  little  brother  was  deeply  imbedded  in  a  yew  tree. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Netelka  gently. 

A  crimson,  startled  face  turned  on  the  instant  to  look  at 
her,  while  the  small  boy,  less  troubled  with  shyness,  ex- 
plained : 

"  It's  my  guinea-pigs.  They've  got  loose  and  come  under 
your  fence,  where  it's  broken  down — at  the  bottom,  where 
Mr.  Waller  used  to  get  through." 

"  Sh — sh,  Willie,  how  dare  you !"  cried  Miss  Collingham, 
trying  to  be  dignified,  but  succeeding  only  in  being  con- 
fused and  angry.  "I'm  very,  very  sorry,"  she  stammered, 
pushing  back  the  loose  fair  hair  which  her  hurried  move- 
ments were  constantly  shaking  down  into  her  eyes  and  over 
her  cheeks. 

"  Are  you?  I'm  not,"  said  Netelka  smiling.  "  I've  been 
dying  to  make  your  acquaintance,  and  I  heartily  thank  the 
guinea-pigs  for  giving  me  the  opportunity.  Come  inside, 
both  of  you,  and  I'll  have  the  guinea-pigs  caught  and  taken 
back  to  their  home  while  we  talk,  and  while  Willie" —  she 
passed  her  hand  through  the  boy's  tangle  of  curly  hair 
— "eats  a  piece  of  cake." 

Miss  Collingham  still  looked  frightened ;  but  it  was  evi- 
dent, from  the  expression  of  her  ingenuous  young  face,  that 
the  charm  of  Netelka's  manner  had  begun  to  work.  She 
allowed  herself  to  be  gently  led  into  the  drawing-room,  while 
Willie  followed  with  the  preternatural  solemnity  of  a  boy 
who  is  taken  by  surprise.  He  was  about  eight  years  of  age, 
tall,  thin,  and  rather  pretty.  It  was  evident  that  he  was 
ready  to  follow  wherever  his  sister  led. 

Once  shut  into  a  room  with  her  victim,  Netelka  found 
her  conquest  easy.  Miss  Collingham  was  soon  chatting  and 
smiling  at  her  ease. 

"  And  now  tell  me,"  eaid  Netelka  at  the  first  pause,  "  why 


JEM.  47 

you    resented    so   strongly   my  call  at   'Maisonette'    the 
other  day?" 

"Eesented!"  cried  Miss  Collingham,  aghast.  "I  never 
resent  anything:  I  don't  believe  I  could  if  I  tried.  I  ran 
away  as  I  did  because — because — oh,  because  I'm  an  idiot!" 

"No,  you're  not.     Did  I  frighten  you?" 

Miss  Collingham  laughed. 

"Yes  and  no." 

"Why  yes?" 

"  "Well,  you  dress  so  beautifully,  for  one  thing,"  said  Miss 
Collingham,  with  a  glance  of  admiration  at  Netelka's  morn- 
ing-gown of  chocolate  cashmere,  with  suggestions  of  palest 
pink  silk  and  a  knot  of  creamy  old  lace  at  the  throat. 
"  And  you  have  such  an  air  of  being — of  being  somebody. " 

"Very  pretty.     And  now,  why  no?" 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  really  frightened,  because  you  smiled  as  if 
you  meant  it,  and  not  as  if  you  only  must.  I  wanted  to 
know  you,  but  I  wanted  to  know  you  by  myself,  like  this, 
and  not  just  to  have  to  shake  hands  and  be  silent  before 
papa  and  mamma." 

Netelka  was  interested.  The  girl  did  not  look  very  happy, 
she  thought.  So,  when  Willie  had  finished  his  cake,  she  dis- 
missed him  to  look  after  his  guinea-pigs,  but  asked  the  girl 
if  she  could  stay  a  little  while. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can  if  I  like.  I  haven't  really  anything  in 
particular  to  do,  unless  mamma  suddenly  takes  it  into  her 
head  that  the  children  shall  do  some  lessons,  or  that  she 
wants  to  go  out  shopping." 

"Do  you  play  or  sing?"  said  Netelka,  throwing  open  a 
little  cottage  piano  that  stood  in  one  corner. 

"  I  do,  after  a  fashion,"  answered  Miss  Collingham,  "  and 
that's  the  answer  I  must  give  to  everything.  I've  never  been 
taught  anything  thoroughly,"  she  went  on,  with  a  sigh. 
"  You  see,  one  can  get  a  smattering  of  everything  cheaply 


48  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

enough ;  but  to  learn  anything  thoroughly  one  wants  time, 
and  care,  and  money." 

"  And  haven't  you  had  the  time  and  the  care,  if  not  the 
money,  spent  on  you?" 

"  I  might  have  had — I  should  have  had,  if  my  mother 
had  lived,"  answered  the  girl  sadly.  "  And  the  money  too. 
I  have  money  of  my  own,  my  mother's  money,  and  my  trus- 
tees make  me  a  very  good  allowance.  But  it  all  goes,  it  al- 
ways has  had  to  go,  on " 

She  stopped  suddenly,  and  became  crimson  as  she  remem- 
bered that  she  was  dropping  into  confidences  which  she  had 
no  right  to  make  to  a  stranger. 

Netelka  was  shrewd  enough  to  guess  the  truth.  The 
young  girl's  allowance  was  not  spent  on  her  education,  and 
not  on  her  dress  certainly:  it  was  dribbled  away  in  the  ex- 
penses of  a  badly  managed  household  when,  easily  enough, 
it  had  been  coaxed  out  of  her  good-natured  little  hands. 

Netelka  patted  her  hand  and  laughed  at  her. 

"Never  mind,"  she  whispered;  "  /won't  tell — in  fact,  I 
won't  even  understand  unless  you  like.  But  I  must  make 
a  condition:  it  is  that  you  will  come  in  and  see  me  some- 
times. I'm  very  lonely  here;  and  since  you  think  I  dress 
so  beautifully,  perhaps  I  could  help  you  with  your  dress  too. 
I'm  not  at  all  a  bad  milliner,  and  perhaps  I  can  be  of  use 
to  you  in  some  way  with  your  needlework,  if  you  have  much 
of  it  to  do." 

"  Much  of  it !"  echoed  Miss  Collingham.  "  I  should  think 
I  had !  I  have  to  mend  all  the  children's  clothes — that  is, 
when  they  get  mended  at  all.  I  don't  know  whether  you 
understand  how  things  have  to  be  done  in  a  small  house- 
hold, Mrs.  Hilliard.  I  don't  suppose  yon  do.  But  the  nurse 
has  to  wait  at  table  and  answer  the  door,  and  the  cook  has 
to  fill  up  her  time  doing  the  rooms,  while  mamma  fidgets 
about  all  over  the  house,  hindering  them  in  their  work;  and 


JEM.  49 

papa  complains  that  he  doesn't  get  enough  attention.  But 
I  ought  not  to  tell  you  of  these  things.  I  didn't  mean  to, 
and  I  didn't  want  to;  but  you've  wheedled  it  all  out  of  me. 
I  think  you're  a  sort  of  witch,  Mrs.  Hilliard." 

"  I  confess  I  wanted  to  steal  your  confidence,  dear,  if  I 
couldn't  get  it  by  fair  means,"  said  Netelka.  "  By  the  bye, 
you  haven't  told  me  your  name,  your  Christian  name. " 

To  her  surprise,  Miss  Collingham  looked  at  her  with  an 
expression  compounded  of  horror  and  of  entreaty. 

"Don't.  Oh,  please  don't  ask  me!"  Then,  as  Netelka 
looked  unfeignedly  astonished,  the  girl  suddenly  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands,  laughing  almost  hysterically.  "It's 
silly;  yes,  I  know  it's  silly.  But  oh,  how  would  you  like  to 
be  called  Jemima?" 

The  question  was  a  thunderbolt  certainly.  Netelka 
sighed. 

"  It  is  rather  dreadful,  dear.     Why  did  they  do  it?" 

"  Oh,  it  was  a  great-aunt,  the  one  my  money  came  from. 
But  if  they'd  given  me  my  choice,  which  of  course  they 
couldn't,  I  would  have  said,  'Give  the  money  to  anybody  you 
like,  and  let  me  have  a  proper  name!'  There's  no  way  of 
changing  a  Christian  name,  is  there?"  she  asked  despon- 
dently. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  one  could  do  it  by  act  of  Parlia- 
ment," answered  Netelka.  "I  think,  dear,  you'll  have  to 
be  content  with  a  change  of  surname  only." 

But  Miss  Collingham  started  up  melodramatically. 

"Never,"  she  said  emphatically.  "I'm  never  going  to 
get  married." 

It  was  not  the  usual  empty  assertion  of  the  girl  of  eigh- 
teen who  has  quite  made  up  her  mind  not  to  die  an  old 
maid. 

Netelka  remembered  Mrs.  Collingham's  words,  and  the 
remark  made  by  Willie  about  the  broken  fence. 
4 


50  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Not,"  suggested  she,  archly,  in  a  very  low,  insinuating 
voice,  "  if  Mr.  Waller  were  to  ask  you?" 

The  girl  started — burst  into  tears. 

"Who — who  told  you?  At  least — of  course  they  don't 
care  at  home ;  nobody  cares ;  they  only  laugh  at  me.  But, 
oh,  Mrs.  Hilliard,  you  won't  tease  me,  will  you?  I've  been 
so  miserable  ever  since!" 

"  Poor  child !"  said  Netelka,  gently  caressing  the  down- 
bent  head.  "  Tell  me  all  about  it." 

Miss  Collingham  raised  her  pretty  tear-stained  face,  with 
some  fire. 

"Yes,  I  will,  I  will  tell  you.  You  won't  laugh  at  me; 
besides,  I  don't  care  if  you  do.  He  was  one  of  the  gentle- 
men who  used  to  come  down  here  the  oftenest  before  this 
house  was  shut  up.  And  I  know  he  was  very  well  off,  or 
that  he  was  going  to  be  when  his  father  died,  and  that  they 
made  him  play  cards  and  bet  so  that  he  might  lose  his 
money.  Yes,  yes,  it  is  true,"  she  went  on,  perceiving  a 
sudden  shrinking  on  Netelka's  part.  "  I  know  that  they 
encouraged  him  to  do  everything  that  was  wrong  and  fool- 
ish so  that  they  might  get  hold  of  him  and  ruin  him.  I — 
I  expect  they  have  pretty  nearly  done  it  by  this  time,"  she 
added  bitterly.  "  When  I  last  saw  him,  nearly  eighteen 
months  ago,  before  the  house  was  shut  up,  he  looked  a  wreck, 
and  he  seemed  so  miserable  it  made  me  cry  to  look  at  him." 

"You  have  heard  from  him  since?"  asked  Netelka. 

Jem  shook  her  head. 

"No,"  she  said  sadly.  "It  was  I  who  cared  so  much  for 
him,  not  he  for  me.  And  I  have  remembered,  you  see, 
while  he,  of  course,  has  forgotten." 

She  was  crying  very  quietly,  and  Netelka  did  not  quite 
know  what  to  say  to  comfort  her,  knowing,  as  she  did,  that 
to  persuade  a  lover  of  the  unworthiness  of  the  loved  one  is 
no  consolation. 


JEM.  51 

So  they  sat  in  silence,  Jem  in  the  cretonne-covered  arm- 
chair facing  the  window,  Netelka  on  the  white-skin  hearth- 
rug in  front  of  her,  caressing  the  girl's  hands  and  looking 
steadily  at  the  fire. 

They  had  been  in  this  position  for  some  minutes  when 
the  door  opened  and  the  man-servant  came  in  with  a  salver. 

"  Letters?"  asked  Netelka  in  surprise. 

"A  telegram,  ma'am." 

Netelka  sprang  up,  finding  it  difficult  to  repress  the  ex- 
citement she  felt.  The  telegram  was  directed  to  "  Hilliard, 
The  Firs,  Wimbledon  Common,"  and  she  tore  it  open,  sup- 
posing it  to  be  for  her  from  her  husabnd. 

But  she  was  wrong.  The  message  was  evidently  intended 
for  her  husband,  and  the  words  were  these : 

"  Come  down  to-night  with  Harrington  and  one  or  two  more. 

"  GERALD  WALLER.  " 

Netelka  cast  an  anxious  glance  at  the  girl  as  she  crushed 
np  the  paper  in  her  hand. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ME.  MOSELEY'S  FBIENDS. 

NETELKA  felt  that  the  blow  which  she  had  long  been  ex- 
pecting had  fallen  at  last.  This  Gerard  Waller,  the  sender 
of  the  telegram,  was  of  one  the  old  set  who  had  made  "  The 
Firs"  too  hot  to  hold  them  eighteen  months  ago.  It  was 
evident,  from  the  fact  that  this  message  was  addressed  to 
Linley,  that  her  husband  was  a  party  to  Moseley's  plan.  In 
the  midst  of  her  anger  and  consternation,  she  remembered, 
with  a  shiver,  that  the  pretty,  innocent  girl  in  front  of  her 
was  in  love  with  this  man  Waller;  and  for  a  moment  Ne- 
telka  forgot  her  own  anxieties  in  solicitude  for  Jem. 

A  moment's  reflection  told  her  that  it  would  be  better  not 
to  let  the  girl  know  of  the  young  man's  visit  just  yet.  Ne- 
telka  thought  she  would  make  his  acquaintance  first  and 
see  what  sort  of  man  she  had  to  deal  with,  for  she  had 
quite  made  up  her  mind  that  no  harm  should  happen  to  the 
girl  if  her  utmost  efforts  could  prevent  it. 

She  dismissed  Jem,  therefore,  telling  her  that  her  hus- 
band was  coming  down  that  day,  and  that  she  must  make 
preparations  for  him ;  and  before  she  had  been  long  alone 
another  telegram,  this  time  from  Linley  himself,  confirmed 
the  first: 

"Expect  two  to  luncheon,  and  five  to  dinner,  and  to  stay  till 
Monday.  Am  bringing  wine,  fish,  game,  and  fruit. 

"  LINLEY.  " 

It  was  with  a  heavy  heart  that  the  young  wife  busied  her- 
self with  the  household  duties  entailed  by  this  newsj  and 


MR.  MOSELET'S  FRIENDS.  53 

when  she  saw,  from  the  window  of  the  library,  a  hansom 
drive  up  in  which  she  recognized  Harrington  Moseley  sit- 
ting beside  Linley,  there  was  no  joy  of  welcome  in  her  face 
as  she  went  to  meet  her  husband. 

She  fancied,  even  as  he  said,  "  "Well,  my  dear,  how  are 
you?  You're  looking  very  well,"  and  kissed  her,  that  she 
detected  in  his  manner  a  coolness  which  foreboded  the  es- 
trangement she  had  begun  to  feel  was  inevitable.  The 
next  moment  Mr.  Harrington  Moseley,  who  was  close  be- 
hind Linley,  wearing  a  smile  of  obsequious  deference,  di- 
verted her  attention  to  herself. 

"  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  for  obtruding  myself  upon  you 
at  such  short  notice,  Mrs.  Hilliard,"  he  said.  "  But  indeed 
if  you  are  angry,  you  must  blame  your  husband,  who  was 
kind  enough  to  invite  me  to  come  down  with  him." 

If  Linley's  eyes  had  not  been  upon  her,  Netelka  would 
have  been  very  curt ;  as  it  was,  a  cold  look  of  warning  on 
her  husband's  face  made  her  stammer  out  that  Mr.  Mose- 
ley was  welcome. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  said  the  Jew  as  effusively  as  if  her 
welcome  had  been  warmer.  "  But  indeed  I  should  not  have 
dared  to  come  and  inflict  myself  upon  you  if  Hilliard  had 
not  invited  a  few  livelier  folk  than  I  to  mitigate  the  bur- 
den of  my  society." 

Netelka  reddened  angrily.  This  veneer  of  extreme  def- 
erence towards  her,  when  she  knew  that  she  was  only  one 
of  the  pawns  in  his  game,  was  nauseating  in  the  extreme: 
she  thought  she  would  have  preferred  open  impertinence. 

Her  powers  of  civility  were  not  at  that  time  put  to  any 
severe  strain,  for  Linley,  who  seemed  by  no  means  to  crave 
the  society  of  his  wife,  carried  Harrington  Moseley  off  to 
the  billiard-room,  where  they  remained  until  the  luncheon- 
bell  rang. 

In  the  mean  time  Netelka  had  decided  upon  a  plan  of  ac- 


54  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

tion.  She  must  first  get  her  husband  by  himself  and  make 
an  appeal  to  him.  If  he  should  oppose  a  gentle  and  placid 
obstinacy  to  her  entreaties,  as  she  thought  probable,  she 
would  then  try  the  Jew  himself,  using  a  firmer  tone  with 
him  than  she  dared  to  employ  with  her  husband. 

At  luncheon  she  began  to  pave  the  way  to  her  intended 
remonstrance. 

"  Who  are  these  people  who  are  coming  down,  Linley?" 
she  asked,  with  an  appearance  of  spontaneity  which  deceived 
Moseley,  at  all  events.  "  I  do  hope  they  are  quiet,  and  that 
they  don't  want  much  entertaining.  I  am  old-fashioned 
enough  to  like  a  peaceful  Sunday,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  the  men  who  are  coming  down  won't  interfere  with 
you,"  said  Linley.  "They  can  entertain  themselves." 

Here  Harrington  Moseley  broke  in : 

"  That  is  just  a  husband's  off-hand  way  of  putting  it, 
Mrs.  Hilliard.  The  real  facts  of  the  case  are  that  the 
friends  who  are  coming  down  appreciate  the  charm  of  la- 
dies' society  quite  as  much  as  we  do  ourselves.  A  house 
without  a  lady  in  it  is,  to  my  mind,  like  a  man  without  a 
soul." 

"  Even  the  man  without  a  soul  has  his  good  points, 
though,"  put  in  Linley,  with  a  certain  appearance  of  hos- 
tility toward  herself  which  Netelka  noted  with  consterna- 
tion. "  At  any  rate,  he  is  neither  squeamish  nor  small- 
minded  :  he  does  as  he  pleases,  and  he  lets  other  people  do 
as  they  please." 

His  snarling  tone  frightened  his  wife  into  silence.  She 
was  not  beaten,  however,  and  as  she  looked  down  in  silence 
at  the  tablecloth,  she  pressed  her  lips  together  firmly  in  a 
manner  which  did  not  escape  the  notice  of  the  shrewd  lit- 
tle Jew.  When  she  looked  up  again,  she  caught  him  in  the 
act  of  directing  a  warning  frown  at  Linley. 

She  rose  from  the  table,  fully  determined  to  encounter 


ME.  MOSELEY 'S  FRIENDS.  55 

both  her  husband  and  Moseley  in  single  combat  before  the 
arrival  of  the  guests:  but  they  were  two  to  one,  and  they 
defeated  her.  She  told  her  husband,  in  a  low  voice,  that 
she  should  like  to  speak  to  him  for  a  few  minutes,  and  he 
told  her  she  might  come  to  him  in  the  library  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  when  he  had  finished  writing  his  letters.  At 
the  end  of  the  fifteen  minutes,  however,  when  Netelka  went 
in  search  of  him,  she  found  the  library  deserted,  and  a 
sealed-up  note  addressed  to  herself  lying  on  the  table. 

For  a  few  moments  she  dared  not  open  it,  but  sat  staring 
at  the  little  square  of  white  paper  until  it  danced  before  her 
eyes  in  a  mist  of  tears,  and  grew  into  a  great  white  sheet 
which  shut  out  the  whole  room  from  her  sight. 

At  last  she  opened  it  and  read  the  following  words: 

"  MY  DEAR  NETELKA  : — 

'It  gives  me  a  good  deal  of  pain  to  find  you  so  unsympathetic  as 
you  have  seemed  to  be  since  my  arrival  this  morning.  I  don't  think 
I  have  troubled  you  so  much  with  my  society  lately  that  you  should 
treat  me  as  if  I  were  the  most  terrible  of  bores.  It  has  cut  me  to  the 
heart.  Where  is  a  man  to  look  for  kindness  and  sympathy  in  a  time 
of  misfortune  if  not  to  his  wife?  You  seem  also  to  be  doing  all  you 
can  to  turn  against  us  the  the  one  friend  who  has  held  out  to  us  a 
helping  hand.  How  can  you  expect  that  Moseley  will  go  on  showing 
us  the  same  magnificent  hospitality  if  you  won't  even  be  civil  to  him, 
or  be  ready  to  welcome  his  friends  ?  As  for  your  '  quiet  Sunday, '  you 
shall  have  it,  believe  me.  Don't  interfere  with  our  guests  (remem- 
ber they  are  yours  too) ,  and  their  amusements,  and  nobody  will  inter- 
fere with  you.  By  the  bye,  they  are  not  strangers  to  me  :  I  know 
thtm  all,  and  they  are  very  good  fellows,  especially  this  Gerard  Wal- 
ler, whom  I  insist  on  your  treating  with  proper  civility  even  if  you 
should  run  so  short  of  it  that  you  haven't  enough  to  spare  for  the 
rest,  and  particularly  for  your  husband. 

"  I  have  gone  out  to  avoid  a  scene.  I  shall  always  go  out  to  avoid 
scenes. 

"  Your  affectionate  husband, 

"LrcoEY. " 


56  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Netelka  did  not  cry.  She  sat  for  a  very  little  while  with 
the  letter  in  her  lap,  staring  out  at  the  big  lignum  vitae, 
whose  big  brushlike  boughs  were  nodding  against  the  win- 
dow-panes in  the  wind.  Then  she  got  up  quickly  and  went 
out  of  the  room  with  a  brisk  step,  determined  to  forget  her 
trouble  in  occupation,  so  that  she  might  not  become  de- 
moralized by  excessive  grieving  before  the  tussle  began. 

When  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  done  in  the  way  of 
superintending  the  arrangements  for  the  accommodation  of 
the  expected  guests,  Netelka  wrapped  her  head  and  shoul- 
ders in  a  shawl  of  cream-colored  China  crape  and  went  out 
into  the  grounds. 

The  daylight  was  already  fading,  and  she  feared  that  Mr. 
Moseley's  friends  might  arrive  before  his  return.  To  put 
off  the  evil  moment,  therefore,  of  her  enforced  introduc- 
tion to  these  highly  objectionable  young  men,  and  in  par- 
ticular to  the  odious  Gerard  Waller,  she  took  a  basket  in 
her  hand  and  went  to  the  chicken-house  to  look  for  eggs. 
She  roamed  about  by  herself  until  it  was  quite  dark,  and 
until  she  began  to  feel  very  cold.  In  the  mean  time  she  had 
heard  the  noise  of  an  arrival,  and  guessed  that  she  would  find 
the  quiet  Sunday  party  in  possession  on  her  return  to  the 
house. 

This  return  she  delayed  until  she  began  to  shiver;  and 
then  hoping  to  get  to  her  room  unobserved  by  the  quietest 
way,  she  entered  by  an  anteroom  which  had  formerly  been 
used  as  a  schoolroom,  but  which  was  now  merely  a  store- 
room for  tennis  racquets,  targets,  fishing-rods,  and  such 
things. 

The  room  was  unlighted,  and  she  had  to  grope  her  way 
to  the  inner  door.  This  door  led  into  the  smoking-room, 
and  Netelka  heard  a  strange  voice  on  the  other  side. 

"  Doesn't  seem  eighteen  months  since  we  were  last  here, 
eh?"  asked  one  voice. 


MR.  MOSELEY'S  FRIENDS.  57 

"  No.  It's  jolly  to  be  back  again.  "Wonder  if  we  shall 
have  the  old  times  over  again?"  said  another  rather  deeper 
voice.  "  Moseley  seems  a  bit  funky  about  it:  he's  been  im- 
pressing upon  me  that  we've  got  to  behave  well — at  first,  at 
any  rate.  He  says  he's  really  let  the  place  to  some  highly 
respectable  people,  who  mustn't  be  shocked." 

On  hearing  the  voices  talking,  Netelka  had  recrossed  the 
anteroom,  with  the  intention  of  getting  out  on  to  the  ter- 
race and  entering  the  house  by  another  way.  But  just  out- 
side the  French  window  there  now  stood  an  enormous  bull 
terrier,  at  the  sight  of  which  she  uttered  a  little  exclama- 
tion of  horror.  She  did  not  know  what  to  do.  On  the  one 
hand,  she  dared  not  pass  the  dog,  who  growled  and  put  his 
paws  up  against  the  glass  at  her  approach ;  on  the  other 
hand,  she  did  not  wish  to  introduce  herself  into  the  assem- 
bly in  the  smoking-room.  In  the  moment's  pause  during 
which  she  remained  undecided,  she  heard  another  scrap  of 
dialogue  within. 

All  the  young  men  were  laughing  heartily ;  and  a  voice 
she  had  not  heard,  a  pleasant,  fresh  young  voice,  broke  in: 

"Respectable!  Ha,  ha,  ha!  That's  very  good.  That's 
awfully  good,  that  is.  That  man  Hilliard  is  the  tenant,  the 
respectable  tenant.  Of  course  I  may  be  wrong,  but  some- 
how I  don't  think  he  will  subject  us  to  very  great  restraints. " 

"But  there's  a  wife — he's  got  a  wife,  it  appears;  no  end 
of  a  shrew,  by  what  I  can  make  out.  It's  she  we've  got  to 
be  so  careful  about.  Some  old  shrew  he's  married  for  her 
money,  I  expect." 

"  Well,  we'll  kill  her  off  for  him,  if  he  behaves  himself," 
said  another  voice.  "  In  the  mean  time  you  must  be  civil 
to  the  old  lady,  Waller." 

"Oh,  I'll  be  civil  to  the  old  hag,"  answered  the  pleasant 
voice  again. 

Netelka  held  her  breath.     She  was  amazed  at  the  audac- 


58  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

ity  of  these  creatures ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  anxiety 
and  annoyance  she  was  suffering,  a  ray  of  amusement  flashed 
into  her  mind  at  the  surprise  that  was  in  store  for  them. 
An  old  hag,  an  old  shrew,  was  she?  She  smiled  to  herself; 
and,  having  found  the  handle  of  the  door,  and  turning  it 
quickly,  she  opened  the  door  and  walked  in  among  them. 

A  thunderbolt — a  bombshell — an  earthquake:  these 
things,  any  of  them,  might  have  surprised  the  group  in 
the  smoking-room,  but  not  so  greatly  as  did  the  appearance 
of  the  lady.  She  had  expected  to  make  some  impression 
by  virtue  of  the  undeniable  and  undenied  good  looks  which 
gave  her  prestige  wherever  she  went.  But  her  coquetry 
was  more  than  satisfied  by  the  effect  she  made. 

Out  of  the  three  young  men  who  formed  the  group,  two 
had  been  sitting,  or  rather  lounging,  in  full  view  of  the 
door,  each  with  a  cigarette  between  his  lips  and  a  half- 
emptied  glass  within  easy  reach.  These  two  sprang  up, 
speechless,  on  her  entrance,  looking  at  her  as  if  she  had 
been  a  messenger  from  another  world.  One  of  these  men 
was  over  six  feet  high,  broad  and  muscular-looking,  with 
a  young  face,  which  betrayed  no  superfluity  of  brains  in  its 
possessor.  The  second  was  shorter,  a  spare  and  rather 
mean-looking  young  fellow,  who  appeared  to  have  no 
marked  individuality. 

The  third  member  of  the  party  was  stretched  on  the 
sofa  with  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  all  that  could  be  seen  of 
him  was  a  head  of  curly  fair  hair.  This  one,  Netelka 
guessed  at  once,  was  Gerard  Waller. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  fellows?"  he  asked  lazily, 
noting  the  sudden  silence  and  not  troubling  himself  to  turn 
round. 

Still  there  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  then  Netelka  ut- 
tered a  little  laugh. 

The  man  on  the  sofa  turned  his  head.     Then,  slowly, 


MR.  MOSELEY'S  FRIENDS.  59 

without  removing  his  gaze  from  the  lady's  face,  he  got  up 
and  bowed. 

Netelka,  having  made  her  effect,  used  her  opportunity  to 
the  utmost,  and  said,  with  a  chilling  little  bend  of  the  head 
and  a  rather  supercilious  smile : 

"  Pray,  don't  let  me  disturb  you.  I  am  only  the  old  lady 
you've  got  to  be  civil  to!" 

And  tranquilly  unwinding  her  shawl  and  putting  it  over 
one  arm,  she  swept  through  the  room  into  the  house,  quite 
conscious  that  she  had  bereft  the  three  guests  of  Mr.  Mose- 
ley  of  every  sense  but  that  of  overpowering  astonishment. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

NETELKA  AS  AN"  AUTOCRAT. 

NETELKA  went  on  her  way  with  as  much  surprise  in  her 
heart  as  she  had  left  behind  her  among  the  occupants  of  the 
smoking-room.  This  Gerard  Waller,  against  whom  she  had 
begun  by  conceiving  a  violent  prejudice,  had  proved  to  be  no 
such  scowling,  dark -faced  villain  as  she  had  imagined  him, 
but  a  decidedly  prepossessing  person.  Under  the  middle 
height,  of  slender  and  boyish  figure,  with  a  beardless  face, 
of  which  the  principal  features  were  a  pair  of  large  light- 
blue  eyes,  a  short  nose,  and  a  humorous  mouth,  Gerard  look- 
ed even  younger  than  his  years.  Netelka  at  once  decided 
that,  of  the  three  young  men  she  had  to  deal  with,  he  was  the 
most  striking  personality ;  and  she  knew  that,  if  she  were 
going  to  take  the  stand  she  intended,  it  was  upon  Gerard 
that  she  must  first  try  her  hand. 

She  was  so  much  interested  to  find  the  enemy  less  repel- 
lent than  she  had  expected  that  when  she  came  down, 
dressed  for  dinner,  into  the  drawing-room,  her  face  had  lost 
the  worried,  anxious  look  which  it  had  worn  since  the  trial. 
She  had  made  up  her  mind  to  make  an  active  protest  that 
very  night  against  the  gambling,  for  which  she  was  sure  the 
company  had  assembled.  And  if  Linley  would  not  give  her 
an  opportunity  of  making  it  to  him,  she  would  make  it  to 
the  whole  assembly. 

The  decision  had  given  a  little  extra  color  to  her  cheeks, 
a  little  more  brilliancy  than  usual  to  her  black  eyes. 

She  found  the  whole  party — for  her  husband  and  Moseley 
had  now  returned — waiting  for  her  in  the  long,  pleasant 


NETELKA  AS  AN  AUTOCRAT.  61 

room,  where  deep  window-seats  and  real  cosy  corners  (not 
the  modern  upholsterer's  misnamed  imitations)  invited  to 
enjoyment  of  book  or  tete-a-tete.  The  young  men  had  all 
put  on  evening  dress  in  her  honor,  and  all  wore  that  look 
of  excited  expectancy  which  is  the  proper  tribute  to  the  ar- 
rival of  a  beautiful  woman. 

There  was  a  lull  in  the  talk,  and  all  heads  were  turned 
in  her  direction  as  she  entered,  looking  her  very  best  in 
black  velvet,  with  large  sleeves  of  orange  colored  silk, 
veiled  with  black  lace. 

Gerard,  who  was  the  nearest  to  the  door,  offered  her  a 
chair.  But  she  would  not  sit,  being  conscious,  perhaps, 
that  she  looked  more  regal  and  therefore  more  likely  to 
create  the  impression  she  wanted  with  her  train  sweeping 
the  ground  behind  her  as  she  moved. 

Mr.  Moseley  could  not  conceal  his  terribly  evident  admi- 
ration. Netelka  felt  that  she  wished  that  he  would  not 
smile  so  much  as  he  almost  ran  forward  and  told  her  that 
she  looked  like  a  queen. 

"And  that  is  exactly  what  I  intend  to  be,"  said  Netelka 
significantly,  letting  her  eyes  rest  for  a  moment  on  his 
smirking  face  with  great  gravity.  "And  I  mean  to  rule 
with  a  sceptre  of  iron." 

Then  she  caught  Gerard's  light  blue  eyes  fixed  upon  her. 
He  had  his  hands  still  on  the  back  of  the  high  chair  he  had 
offered  her. 

"It's  not  a  good  beginning,"  said  he,  "to  refuse  your 
throne." 

"  Why  not?  Doesn't  it  show  a  gracious  modesty,  and  a 
wish  to  enjoy  myself  amiably  among  my  subjects?" 

"  I  didn't  see  it  in  that  light,"  said  Gerard.  "  It  looked 
to  me  too  much  like  independence.  And  independence  in 
a  sovereign  in  these  radical  days  is  not  to  be  tolerated  for 
a  moment.  In  fact,  you've  got  to  understand,  your  majesty, 


62  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

that  you're  a  queen  only  as  long  as  your  subjects  please: 
that  we  will  bow  and  kiss  your  hand  most  loyally  as  long  as 
you  do  just  what  we  choose,  just  as  we  choose ;  but  that  the 
moment  you  do  the  smallest  thing  we  don't  like,  it's  all  up 
with  your  sovereignty." 

Netelka  laughed,  and  so  did  the  others,  who  were  listen- 
ing. They  were  all  conscious,  perhaps,  that  there  was  a 
little  more  than  mere  idle  chatter  to  fill  up  the  time  in  the 
combat  of  wits.  Indeed,  Netelka's  retort  to  her  represen- 
tative subject  made  her  husband  frown. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  risk  my  crown  in  one  grand  coup"  said 
she,  "  and  see  whether  there  is  not  more  loyalty  latent  in 
my  people  than  they  themselves  imagine. " 

"  Count  upon  one  sword !"  cried  Gerard,  as  he  sprang  to 
the  hearth-rug,  snatched  up  the  brass  poker  which  was 
never  meant  to  poke,  and  held  it  above  his  head  with  a  the- 
atrical air. 

At  this  Arthur  Sainsbury,  a  giant  of  six  feet  three,  with 
boisterous  manners,  a  laugh  which  could  be  heard  in  the 
nezt  county,  and  the  intelligence  of  an  infant,  snatched  up 
the  hearth-broom  and  ranged  himself  by  the  side  of  his 
friend. 

"  Count  upon  two !"  roared  he,  throwing  into  the  fire- 
place the  cigarette,  which  was  his  distinguishing  badge. 
"Sam,  get  out  of  the  way,  unless  you  mean  to  enlist 
too!" 

These  last  words  were  addressed  to  the  third  member  of 
the  trio,  a  hollow-chested,  languid  little  person,  with  black- 
lustre  eyes  and  lack-lustre  wits,  who  was  leaning  against  the 
mantelpiece  in  an  attitude  which  he  believed  to  be  as  effec- 
tive as  he  knew  it  to  be  uncomfortable.  Before  Sam  could 
make  up  his  mind  how  best  to  get  out  of  the  difficulty  which 
his  uproarious  friend  had  forced  upon  him,  Arthur  seized 
him  by  the  shoulders  in  the  manner  of  a  clumsy  Newfound- 


NETELKA  AS  AN  AUTOCRAT.  63 

land  puppy,  who  knocks  down  the  master  he  wishes  to  ca- 
ress, and  thrust  the  tongs  upon  his  unwilling  friend. 

"Confound  your  tomfoolery!"  growled  Sam,  furious. 
"Don't  you  ever  mean  to  grow  up,  you  young  idiot?" 

Arthur  answered  with  a  roar  of  laughter.  He  was  a 
perfect  specimen  of  the  drawing-room  or  upper  middle- 
class  "'Arry,"  who  delights  in  noise  and  rough  play,  and 
honestly  believes  that  it  is  only  fogies  of  the  most  oppressive 
kind  who  do  not  share  his  own  taste  for  the  simple  recrea- 
tions of  violent  movements  and  deafening  noise. 

"  All  right,  old  chap,  don't  be  sulky,"  he  cried,  inflicting 
upon  Sam  a  slap  on  the  back,  which  was  a  fresh  outrage  to 
that  gentleman's  dignity.  "You  shall  have  your  revenge 
to-night,  and  let  me  win  back  the  'monkey'  I  lost  the  other 
night." 

Netelka,  who  heard  these  words,  through  the  conversa- 
tion she  was  keeping  up  with  Moseley  and  Gerard  Waller 
at  the  same  time,  faltered  and  grew  pale.  She  knew  what 
a  "  monkey"  was ;  and  the  mention  of  such  a  sum  showed  to 
what  an  extent  these  young  fools  indulged  their  propensity 
for  gambling. 

But  at  that  moment  dinner  was  announced,  and  playfully 
carrying  out  Gerard's  suggestion  that  she  had  better  go  first, 
in  regal  dignity,  than  set  them  all  quarrelling  for  the  right 
to  escort  her,  Netelka  led  the  way  into  the  dining-room. 

Netelka  sat  between  Moseley  and  Gerard.  Conversation- 
ally, dinner  was  a  failure.  Gerard  tried  to  begin  a  conver- 
sation with  her,  but  Mr.  Moseley's  interruptions,  taking 
for  the  most  part  the  form  of  stilted  compliments,  pre- 
vented it  from  becoming  interesting.  And  Netelka  was, 
moreover,  distracted  by  the  talk  of  the  other  two  young 
men,  who  betrayed  at  every  other  sentence  their  lack  of 
ideas  on  every  subject  but  horses,  cards,  and  the  ballet. 

She  left  the  table  almost  as  soon  as  dessert  began. 


64  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

In  the  drawing-room  she  found  that  a  long  table  had  been 
placed  in  her  absence,  marked  ready  for  baccarat.  At  one 
end  were  several  packs  of  cards.  A  man  she  did  not  know, 
who  looked  something  like  a  servant,  had  just  drawn  up 
some  chairs  to  the  table. 

"  By  whose  orders  has  this  table  been  placed  here?"  asked 
she  peremptorily. 

"By  Mr.  Moseley's,  ma'am,"  answered  the  man,  who  had 
at  first  looked  as  if  he  intended  to  be  less  than  respectful, 
but  whose  manner  instantly  changed  to  deference  at  the 
sound  of  her  voice. 

"  Take  the  table  away  at  once,"  said  she  in  incisive  tones. 

The  man  changed  color  and  hesitated.  Then  he  said  in 
a  tone  which  was  respectful  still,  but  quite  as  determined  as 
her  own : 

"I  dare  not,  ma'am,  without  my  master's  orders." 

"Is  Mr.  Moseley  your  master?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

Netelka  did  not  falter  for  a  moment.  She  turned,  swept 
out  of  the  room,  crossed  the  hall  to  the  dining-room,  and 
threw  open  the  door. 

The  younger  men  were  by  this  time  very  merry,  and  all 
were  laughing  heartily  when  she  entered. 

A  dead  silence  fell  upon  them  all,  however,  when  they 
turned  and  saw  her  face.  She  was  quite  white  from  fore- 
head to  chin,  and  the  pallor  of  her  face  made  her  black  eyes 
look  preternaturally  large  and  luminous. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  in  the  absolute  silence 
Arthur  Sainsbury  let  a  dessert-knife  fall,  with  a  little  crash, 
upon  his  plate.  The  noise,  slight  as  it  was,  caused  Netelka 
to  start.  Then  she  spoke,  not  in  her  sweet  and  rather  low- 
pitched  voice,  but  in  a  tremulous  and  broken  one,  which 
iounded  new  and  strange  to  herself. 

"  Mr.  Moseley,"  she  said,  addressing  the  Jew,  who  imme- 


NETELKA  AS  AN  AUTOCRAT.  65 

ditely  rose,  "  your  servant — I  don't  know  his  name — he  is 
a  man  1  have  never  seen  before — refuses  to  obey  me.  I  must 
ask  you,  therefore,  to  give  the  order  for  me.  A  baccarat- 
table  has  been  set  out  in  the  drawing-room :  I  must  have 
it  taken  away.  As  long  as  I  am  in  this  house  there  will  be 
no  gambling  here." 

While  she  was  speaking  all  the  men  in  the  room  had 
risen  one  by  one  and  were  listening,  in  the  subdued  man- 
ner of  mice  just  out  of  reach  of  the  cat,  to  her  words.  But 
as  soon  as  she  had  finished,  Linley,  who  was  the  farthest 
from  her,  came  round  the  table  quickly,  with  a  stealthy 
tread,  and  with  hard,  cold,  angry  eyes.  His  white  lips 
were  set  in  a  straight  line. 

"Do  you  know  what  you're  doing?"  he  asked,  hissing 
the  words  in  her  ears  in  a  voice  so  low  that  they  would  have 
been  inaudible  to  the  rest  but  for  the  dead  silence  which 
prevailed.  "  Do  you  know  that  you  are  taking  a  confounded 
liberty?  And  that  my  friends — my  friends  can  amuse 
themselves  as  they  please?  Go  back,  go  back  to  the  draw- 
ing-room, if  you  can  manage  to  be  amiable.  If  not,  let  us 
see  no  more  of  you  to-night." 

All  the  other  men  in  the  room  had  begun  to  move  un- 
easily, for  Linley's  manner  was  so  cold,  so  cutting,  as  to 
make  his  words  brutal  in  the  extreme. 

"  No,  no,  Hilliard,"  remonstrated  Moseley,  "you  mustn't 
talk  like  that  to  a  lady.  If  Mrs.  Hilliard  objects  to  card- 
playing  in  her  drawing-room,  she  shall  certainly  not  be  an- 
noyed by  having  it  done  against  her  wishes.  I  dare  say  our 
young  friends  will  not  mind " 

"They  will  amuse  themselves  just  as  they  intended," 
broke  in  Linley,  doggedly,  his  pale  face  more  deadly  white 
than  usual.  He  shook  like  a  leaf  in  the  wind,  not  with  fear, 
but  with  an  uncanny,  deadly  anger.  "  Go !" 

As  he  spoke,  he  gave  his  wife  a  little,  contemptuous  push 
5 


66  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

from  him.  Slight  as  the  movement  was,  the  manner  in 
which  he  made  it  reminded  those  present  of  the  way  in 
which  a  bad  master  kicks  a  dog.  There  was  a  sort  of  gasp 
from  them  all,  and  Gerard  sprang  forward  with  his  face 
aglow.  Moseley  caught  his  arm  as  he  raised  it  to  strike 
Linley.  His  tongue,  however,  was  not  stopped  so  easily. 

"  If  you  speak  to  your  wife  again  like  that,  Hilliard,"  he 
cried,  his  voice  shaking  with  passion,  "  whether  you  are  my 
host  or  not,  I'll  knock  you  down!" 

He  would  have  carried  the  threat  into  immediate  execu- 
tion if  Linley  had  not  retreated  nimbly  to  the  other  side 
of  the  table,  while  Netelka,  very  much  frightened,  allowed 
Sam  Teale,  at  a  sign  from  Gerard,  to  lead  her  out  of  the 
room. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

MR.  MOSELET'S  GRATITUDE. 

NETELKA,  completely  unhinged  by  the  scene  she  had  gone 
through  in  the  dining-room,  ran  upstairs  to  her  own  room, 
and  throwing  herself  upon  the  sofa  which  stood  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  before  the  fire,  sat,  without  tears,  in  an  agony 
of  dull  despair.  She  was  full  of  faults,  this  woman  whom 
Linley  Dax  had  married  for  her  beauty  and  the  charm  of 
her  abundant  vitality.  Passionate,  vain,  extravagant,  easily 
cowed  yet  easily  led,  she  was  not  strong  enough  to  act 
upon  all  the  good  impulses  of  her  heart,  and  above  all  to  be 
the  helpmeet  of  such  a  man  as  her  husband;  for  she  could 
neither  conceal  her  misgivings  about  him,  nor  ignore 
them,  or  rather  she  could  follow  neither  of  these  courses 
consistently.  At  one  moment  she  would  be  sincerely  affec- 
tionate, refusing  to  believe  any  of  her  own  fears ;  at  an- 
other, she  would  let  her  doubts  look  through  her  eyes. 
Now,  with  Linley,  this  conduct  was  fatal :  he  hardly  knew 
whether  he  was  the  more  irritated  by  her  unquestioning, 
demonstrative  affection,  or  by  the  open  suspicion  which 
was  its  only  alternative. 

She  was  now  suffering  from  a  fit  of  suspicion  the  most 
profound  she  had  yet  known.  Judging  her  husband,  wo- 
man-like, rather  by  his  treatment  of  her  than  by  any  more 
rational  standard,  his  brutal  rudeness  to  her  before  the  other 
men  seemed  a  more  conclusive  proof  of  the  suspicious  na- 
ture of  his  connection  with  Harrington  Moseley  than  any  of 
his  other  actions.  The  young  wife  felt  as  if  her  heart  was 
broken.  She  was  losing,  in  spite  of  herself,  both  her  love 


68  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

for  her  husband  and  her  hold  upon  his  heart.  And  the  one 
person  to  whom  she  had  turned  in  her  despair,  instead  of 
holding  out  arms  of  welcome  to  the  unhappy  woman,  had 
thrown  her  back  upon  herself,  with  a  calm  recommendation 
to  do  her  duty. 

Duty.'  The  word  was  a  mockery.  Would  even  Aunt 
Mary  tell  her  that  it  was  her  duty  to  obey  her  husband  when 
he  demanded  that  she  should  preside  over  a  gambling-hell? 
The  small  party  assembled  this  evening  was  only  the  thin 
end  of  the  wedge,  Netelka  felt  sure.  She  asked  herself 
what  she  ought  to  do,  and  could  find  no  answer.  She  was 
not  a  specially  self-reliant  woman,  but  had  always  until 
now  had  some  adviser  at  hand  to  whom  she  could  appeal 
in  a  difficulty.  Two  years  before,  her  mother  had  been 
alive;  and  since  then,  until  now,  she  had  had  Aunt  Mary. 
But  now  Lady  Kenslow  seemed  unaccountably  to  have  failed 
her,  and  she  was  indeed  alone. 

Suddenly  she  started  up,  alarmed  by  a  knock  at  her  door. 
It  was  only  the  housemaid,  with  a  request  from  Mr.  Mose- 
ley  that  Mrs.  Hilliard  would  be  kind  enough  to  see  him  for 
a  few  minutes.  Netelka  walked  across  the  room  to  her  glass. 
She  saw  a  pale,  almost  haggard,  face,  out  of  which  a  pair  of 
hungry  black  eyes  stared  at  her  curiously.  She  snatched 
up  a  handkerchief  and  rubbed  her  white  cheeks  until  the 
friction  brought  back  some  of  the  hue  of  life  to  them. 
Then  she  went  downstairs. 

In  the  hall,  reclining  against  the  oaken  balustrade,  stood 
Mr.  Moseley.  The  light  from  the  colored  lantern  above 
him  fell  upon  him,  making  a  grotesque  pattern  upon  his 
white  shirt-front.  Netelka  thought  tbat  his  face,  with  its 
long,  hooked  nose,  looked  like  a  hideous  gargoyle.  She 
was  quite  sure  of  it  as  soon  as  he  smiled. 

"Ah,  Mrs.  Hiliard,"  he  exclaimed  with  effusive  amiabil- 
ity, throwing  away  his  cigarette  as  soon  as  she  was  within 


MR.  MOSELEY'S  GRATITUDE.  69 

a  few  steps  of  him,  "  this  is  kind.  I  do  hope  I  have  not 
disturbed  you.  You  look  tired.  I  am  very  angry  with 
Linley,  very  angry,"  he  went  on  in  the  same  breath. 

Netelka  could  not  bear  this  man,  and  commiseration  from 
him  seemed  to  her  an  insult.  She  answered  coldly : 

"He  was  right;  my  husband  was  quite  right.  I  have  no 
business  to  interfere  with  the  amusements  of  your  guests, 
Mr.  Moseley." 

"My  guests!  Oh,  no,  not  mine.  You  and  Linley  are 
my  tenants,"  he  answered  hastily.  "I  am  only  here  as  a 
guest,  like  the  rest.  If  I  thought  you  looked  upon  me  as 
anything  else,  I  would  not  come  here  at  all." 

Netelka  scarcely  repressed  a  contemptuous  smile. 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Moseley,  we  will  say  my  guests,  if  you 
like.  I  have  no  right  to  interfere  with  the  amusements  of 
my  husband's  guests,  who  are  mine  also.  If  I  disapprove 
of  them,  my  only  course  is  to  go  away." 

Then  she  saw  that  the  Jew's  face  could  wear  an  expres- 
sion much  uglier  than  his  smile. 

"You  would  go  away — turn  your  husband  out  of  his 
home!" 

Netelka  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  He  hasn't  shown  much  appreciation  of  the  home  as  yet. 
He  has  been  here  four  days  in  three  weeks!" 

"  That  was  not  his  fault — you  know  that,  Mrs.  Hilliard. 
He  has  had  business  to  attend  to  in  town — with  the  insur- 
ance companies,  for  one  thing.  But  we  need  not  argue 
about  that.  Ask  him  whether  he  wishes  you  to  go  away." 

The  words  were  a  menace,  Netelka  knew.  Before  she 
could  make  any  reply,  however,  Mr.  Moseley 's  tone  sud- 
denly changed  and  became  almost  servile  in  its  obsequious- 
ness: 

"  Now,  my  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard,  why  are  we  talking  as  if 
we  were  on  the  verge  of  a  quarel,  when  what  I  wanted  to 


70  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

see  you  for  was  to  thank  you  very  heartily  for  having  just 
got  me  out  of  a  most  unpleasant  position." 

Netelka  could  not  forbear  a  glance  of  astonishment  as  he 
went  on : 

"  It  was  that  young  "Waller  who  insisted  on  playing  bac- 
carat to-night.  I  could  easily  have  dissuaded  the  other  two 
lads,  but  Waller  is  pig-headed,  and  is  not  got  over  so  easily. 
If  you  hadn't  put  your  foot  down,  he  would  never  have 
left  the  card-table  until  some  time  on  Monday  morning: 
you  see  I  know  him." 

"  Then  you  might  have  known  better  than  to  bring  him 
down  here,"  retorted  Netelka  quickly. 

"That  was  Linley's  doing;  it  was,  I  give  yon  my  word. 
He  took  a  fancy  to  the  young  fellow  and  invited  him  down, 
and  then  the  invitation  to  Waller's  two  chums  followed  as 
a  matter  of  course.  That's  the  whole  story.  I  knew  what 
would  happen,  but  I  could  do  nothing.  I  hadn't  even  time 
to  warn  you.  But  if  I'd  only  known  what  a  courageous 
stand  you  would  make,  I  should  have  done  my  best  to  get 
Linley  to  invite  Waller  down  here  before  to-day. " 

Perhaps  Netelka  looked  rather  incredulous.  At  any 
rate,  Mr.  Moseley  went  on  with  more  emphasis  than 
before : 

"  I  tell  you  I  should  have  done  my  best  to  get  Waller  to 
come  down  here  before,"  he  repeated,  gently  moving  his 
hand  to  catch  the  effect  of  the  lamplight  on  his  diamond 
ring.  "  I  must  tell  you  that  I  am  greatly  interested  in  that 
young  man,  interested  in  more  ways  than  one.  Now  he  is 
ruining  himself  by  his  passion  for  gambling,  and  nobody 
has  yet  been  able  to  check  him  in  it.  He  is  losing  his 
health  besides  his  money  over  the  card-table — you  can  see 
for  yourself  that  he  looks  as  if  he  was  in  consumption  al- 
ready. A  few  more  years  of  the  same  pace  would  finish  him. 
If  you  can  keep  him  away  from  the  cards — and  I'm  sure 


MR.  MOSELEY'S  GRATITUDE.  71 

that  a  lady  of  your  fascinations  can  do  so  if  she  chooses — 
why  you'll  be  the  salvation  of  him,  body  and  soul." 

Netelka  listened  attentively.  She  was  rather  touched  by 
Mr.  Moseley's  story,  but  at  the  same  time  she  doubted 
whether  he  was  disinterested  enough  for  her  to  believe  his 
statements  implicitly.  He  seemed  in  earnest,  certainly; 
but  she  was  too  sceptical  to  answer  him  in  the  same  tone. 

"  You  should  get  his  friends,  his  relations  to  look  after 
him,"  she  said  rather  shortly.  "You  can  scarcely  have 
brought  him  down  here  in  the  expectation  that  I  should  do 
so." 

Mr.  Moseley  was  not  quite  sure  whether  he  had  offended 
her  or  not.  At  any  rate,  he  felt  that  extreme  humility  was 
his  best  plan. 

"  Don't  be  angry,  pray.  Don't  let  me  turn  you  against 
the  poor  fellow.  I  thought  you  would  like  to  know  that 
you  might  use  your  feminine  influence  for  good  upon  a  fel- 
low-creature, that  was  all.  If  I  have  seemed  obtrusive  or 
presumptuous,  I  beg  you  to  forgive  me  and  to  forget  what 
I  have  said." 

He  took  a  step  back,  with  an  obsequious  bow,  as  if  un- 
willing to  detain  her  any  longer.  But  after  a  little  hesita- 
tion, Netelka  detained  him  by  a  gesture. 

"I  want  to  ask  you  a  question,  Mr.  Moseley." 

He  had  rushed  back  to  her  side  with  great  nimbleness,  and 
was  leering  at  her  affectionately  over  the  banisters. 

"  A  thousand,  if  you  like.  To  obey  you  is  an  honor, 
Mrs.  Hilliard." 

"  I  won't  test  your  patience  so  far.  I  have  heard  of  the 
reputation  this  house  had  eighteen  months  ago,  Mr.  Mose- 
ley. Is  it  to  have  the  same  again?" 

For  just  the  third  part  of  a  second  Mr.  Moseley  looked 
as  if,  in  a  better  light,  he  might  have  blushed.  Then  he 
said  serenely : 


72  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard,  it  was  just  to  avoid  such  a  dan- 
ger that  I  asked  you  and  your  husband  to  do  me  the  favor 
to  stay  here.  That  is  the  truth — I  give  you  my  word.  I 
was  glad,  very  glad  to  be  able  to  oblige  him,  mind,  by  offer- 
ing him  a  home  when  he  did  not  know  where  to  go.  But  I 
won't  deny  that  I  had  that  other  selfish  motive.  You  see, 
a  house  without  a  lady  in  it  is  not  a  home.  Now  I'm  a 
bachelor,  and  I  have  no  intention  of  marrying.  I  find  that 
all  the  nicest  ladies,"  and  he  looked  at  her  with  an  expres- 
sion which  was  meant  to  be  very  eloquent,  "  are  married  al- 
ready. "When  I  used  to  come  down  here,  therefore,  it  was 
always  just  a  bachelor  party,  and  there  was  no  one  to  keep 
the  boys  in  order,  so  they  got  a  little  out  of  hand,  don't 
you  see?  Your  presence  has  changed  all  that.  The  refin- 
ing influence  of  your  sex " 

Netelka  took  up  his  speech  and  finished  it  for  him. 

"  Did  not  prevent  your  servant  from  putting  out  the  bac- 
carat-table in  the  drawing-room,"  she  said  dryly. 

"He  will  know  better  another  time,"  returned  Mr.  Mose- 
ley,  imperturbably. 

"  Of  course  if  you  really  mean  what  you  say,  since  my 
husband  is  satisfied  for  us  to  stay  here,  I  am  ready  to  re- 
main with  him,"  said  Netelka  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  and 
making  no  pretence  of  being  grateful  for  Mr.  Moseley 's  hos- 
pitality. "  But  I  tell  you  frankly  that,  if  your  friends  want 
to  make  this  a  gaming-house,  or  if  Linley's  friends  do,  for 
that  matter,  I  shall  go  back  to  town  and  stay  with  my  own 
relations." 

Harrington  Moseley  listened  in  an  attitude  of  deeply  re- 
spectful attention.  But  Netelka  could  not  help  thinking 
that  he  bent  his  head  so  very  low,  not  out  of  pure  civility, 
but  with  the  wish  to  hide  from  her  the  malicious  smile  on 
his  face. 

When  she  finished  speaking  there  was  a  slight  pause,  dur- 


MR.  MOSELEY 'S  GRATITUDE.  73 

ing  which  he  kept  his  head  still  bent,  as  if  waiting  for  fur- 
ther speech  on  her  part.  At  last  he  said : 

"You  are  very  suspicious,  Mrs.  Hilliard,  I  see.  But  you 
will  soon  see  that  you  do  me  and  your  husband,  too,  the 
cruelest  injustice." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Netelka  curtly,  as  she  turned  and  went 
upstairs  again. 

She  heard  no  voices  in  the  drawing-room,  and  she  was 
afraid  that  if  she  went  straight  into  that  apartment  Har- 
rington Moseley  would  follow  her,  and  that  she  would  have 
to  endure  his  society  for  an  indefinite  time.  But  as  soon  as 
she  reached  the  top  of  the  staircase  she  began  to  wonder 
what  had  become  of  the  rest  of  the  party :  whether  they  had 
yet  left  the  dining-room,  and  if  so,  where  they  had  gone  to. 
She  had  heard  Moseley  return  to  the  dining-room ;  so,  know- 
ing herself  to  be  now  safe  from  a  further  tete-a-tete  with 
him,  she  went  down  the  stairs  again  and  stole  very  softly 
into  the  drawing-room. 

The  baccarat-table  had  been  removed. 

She  stood  still,  staring  at  the  place  it  had  occupied,  with 
doubt  in  her  eyes. 

Where  was  the  table  now?     Where  were  the  cards? 

As  she  asked  herself  these  questions,  and  as  thoughts  of 
the  scene  in  the  dining-room  and  of  her  still  more  recent 
talk  with  Harrington  Moseley  crowded  into  her  mind,  an 
overwhelming  sense  of  her  utter  powerlessness,  of  the  ease 
with  which  they  could  laugh  at  her  little  outbursts  of  pre- 
tended authority  and  go  their  own  way  in  spite  of  her,  rushed 
into  her  mind.  She  drew  a  long  quivering  sigh ;  her  lips 
began  to  tremble,  and,  crossing  the  room  quickly  to  a  low 
chair  that  stood  beside  a  revolving  bookcase,  she  laid  her 
head  uncomfortably  down  upon  it  and  began  to  cry. 


CHAPTEE  X. 

A  SHEEP  IN  WOLF'S  CLOTHING. 

"  Oh,  don't,  don't !  Now  leave  off,  leave  off  at  once,  I 
say !  I  should  never  have  thought  it  of  you,  and  you  a  queen 
too !  For  shame,  for  shame !" 

Netelka  started  violently,  and  instead  of  looking  round 
at  the  disturber  of  her  peace,  turned  her  head  hastily  away 
from  him,  and  began  to  dry  her  eyes  hastily  on  the  flimsi- 
est nothing  of  a  pocket-handkerchief — a  piece  of  finest  cam- 
bric four  inches  square,  with  an  imposing  border  of  old 
Mechlin. 

She  knew  that  the  voice  was  Gerard  Waller's,  and  her  first 
thought  was  mainly  to  escape  from  him.  But  there  was  a 
kindly  tone  of  warm  humanity  in  the  words  and  an  inde- 
scribably comforting  cheeriness  in  the  voice,  which  made  her 
pause.  She  was  awkward  in  her  confusion — for  it  is  un- 
doubtedly confusing  to  be  caught,  not  red-handed,  but  red- 
eyed  ;  and  the  flimsiest  of  pocket-handkerchiefs  slipped  out 
of  her  fingers  and  fell  on  the  floor.  She  put  down  her  hand 
to  pick  it  up,  but  Gerard  was  too  quick  for  her.  He  was 
down  on  his  knees  in  a  moment,  and  before  her  fingers 
touched  the  carpet  he  had  snatched  up  the  pocket-handker- 
chief and  was  regarding  it  with  bewilderment  and  admira- 
tion. Netelka  held  her  other  hand  over  her  eyes ;  but  she 
peeped  through  them,  and  could  watch  him  at  her  ease. 

"Do  you  often  cry?"  asked  he,  still  on  his  knees. 

"No.     Why?" 

"  Because  if  you  do,  you  ought  to  provide  yourself  with 
some  thicker  pocket-handkerchiefs,"  said  Gerard  gravely. 


A  SHEEP  IN  WOLF'S  CLOTHING.  75 

"I  don't  believe  you've  shed  more  than  two  tears  (there's 
always  so  much  more  fuss  than  real  cry  about  a  woman's 
crying),  and  yet  this  handkerchief  (if  you  call  it  a  handker- 
chief) is  wet  through." 

Netelka  put  out  her  hand. 

"  Well,  at  any  rate  you  can  give  it  me  back. " 

Gerard  walked  away  on  his  knees  until  he  was  about  a 
foot  farther  from  her.  Then  he  sat  back  on  his  heels  and 
went  on  gravely  with  his  lecture. 

"I  think,"  said  he  very  deliberately,"  that  I'll  keep 
the  handkerchief  for  the  present  as  a  pledge  of  your  good 
behavior." 

"But  you  have  no  right  to.     It's  mine!" 

"How  do  I  know  that?"  asked  Gerard  solemnly.  "I've 
only  your  word  for  it;  and  I've  not  known  you  long  enough, 
to  be  able  to  estimate  the  exact  value  to  be  attached  to  your 
assertions.  Mind,  I'm  not  saying  you  are  telling  an  un- 
truth ;  far  from  it.  I  merely  say  that  I  have  no  proof  of 
the  contrary." 

"Whose  do  you  think  it  is,  if  it's  not  mine?"  asked  Ne- 
telka,  rather  amused. 

"  That  also  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  determine.  One 
thing  I'll  swear,  though,"  he  went  on  more  cheerfully  as 
he  held  the  pocket-handkerchief  up  to  the  light,  "  that  it 
isn't  a  man's.  No  member  of  my  sex  would  be  so  insane 
as  to  use  a  pocket-handkerchief  with  so  many  holes  in 
it." 

"Holes  in  it!     Where?" 

"All  over  the  edge." 

"  Those  are  not  holes.  They  are  in  the  pattern  of  the 
lace." 

"  They  are  holes,  all  the  same.  Just  look  at  the  situation 
you  place  yourself  in  by  having  such  a  ridiculous  thing  for 
a  pocket-handkerchief.  If  you  wanted  to  cry  any  more, 


76  A  SENSATIONAL   CASE. 

yon  would  have  to  borrow  mine — almost  a  stranger's !  Fancy 
that!" 

"But  I'm  not  going  to  cry  any  more,"  said  Netelka. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  take  your  hand  away  from  your 
face?  I  knew  you  were  not  crying.  You've  been  watch- 
ing me  through  your  fingers,  to  see  that  I  didn't  hurt  the 
pocket-handkerchief  by  breathing  on  it  too  hard.  But  why 
pretend  ?  It's  no  use.  I've  given  you  all  the  sympathy  I  had 
to  spare,  and  now  I've  used  it  all  up.  I  say  again,  why 
pretend?" 

"I'm  not  pretending.  I'm  keeping  my  hand  up  because 
my  eyes  are  red." 

Gerard  chuckled. 

"I  knew  that,"  said  he  softly.  "If  I  were  a  fellow 
who  paid  compliments,  if  I  were  Major  Collingham, 
next  door  there,  or  any  one  but  my  own  manly  and 
honest  self,  in  fact,  I  might  be  tempted  to  remark  that 
you  could  afford  to  be  seen  even  with  your  eyes  red. 
But  never  mind.  I  promise  faithfully  to  turn  my  head 
away  while  you  go  over  to  the  glass  and  see  if  you're  all 
right." 

But  Netelka  sat  up,  uncovered  her  eyes,  and  turned  to 
face  him  with  an  expression  in  which  there  was  a  little 
dignified  astonishment  at  his  presumption. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "that  you  are  taking  a  very 
great  liberty  in  talking  to  me  like  this?" 

Gerard's  face  changed,  and  he  got  up  quickly  from  his 
knees. 

"I  hope  you  don't  mean  that — really?"  said  he.  There 
was  a  moment's  silence,  and  he  went  on :  "I  don't  think 
you  do.  But  if  so,  then  I  can  only  beg  your  pardon,  and — 
and  take  myself  off." 

He  backed  a  few  steps  on  his  way  to  the  door,  and  Netelka 
looked  up.  If  there  was  in  her  mind  one  lingering  doubt 


A  SHEEP  IN  WOLF'S  CLOTHINQ.  77 

as  to  the  sort  of  reply  she  should  make  to  him,  this  glance 
decided  her. 

She  saw  a  beardless  young  face — not  a  handsome  one  cer- 
tainly, but  attractive  beyond  measure  to  eyes  able  to  read 
the  indications  given  there  of  the  mind  within.  Gerard's 
light  blue  eyes  were  shrewd  as  well  as  kindly,  and  the  ex- 
pression in  them  as  he  waited  for  the  lady's  answer  was  one 
of  pity  mingled  with  respect. 

Netelka  shivered  and  turned  her  head  sharply  away. 
Then,  as  she  heard  him  take  another  step  toward  the  door, 
she  raised  her  hand  to  detain  him. 

"That's  a  threat,  I  suppose,"  said  she,  trying  to  keep  up 
the  light  tone  of  their  previous  talk. 

But  there  was  an  unmistakable  tremor  in  her  voice.  Ger- 
ard came  back  again. 

"  No,"  said  he,  with  affected  gravity.  "  I'm  not  so  con- 
ceited as  you  think.  I  can  conceive  the  possibility  of  your 
finding  me  an  insufferable  nuisance,  I  assure  you." 

Netelka  looked  at  him  frankly  and  laughed. 

"Well, /can't." 

He  heaved  a  preposterous  sigh  of  relief. 

"That's  all  right." 

Netelka  got  up  and  crossed  the  room  to  a  great  square 
looking-glass,  which  filled  an  immense  space  of  the  wall 
opposite  to  one  of  the  latticed  windows. 

"  You  see  you  were  right  after  all.  It  is  really  no  dis- 
grace to  be  found  out  by  a  person  of  so  much  penetration. 
I  am  going  to  see  how  I  look." 

Gerard  watched  her  from  the  middle  of  the  room  with 
great  interest  as  she  rearranged  the  hair  on  her  forehead 
with  a  few  deft  touches,  and  unfastened  a  diamond  crescent 
brooch  in  the  front  of  her  dress  to  replace  it  more  effec- 
tively. 

"  That  does  look  better,"  said  be  reflectively,  with  his  head 


78  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

on  one  side.  "  I  thought  it  was  just  right  before,  but  it  is 
decidedly  better  so.  Here  is  your  fan.  You  dropped  it 
near  the  door  when  you  came  in." 

He  took  it  out  of  one  of  his  pockets  as  he  spoke.  Netelka 
looked  at  the  fan  and  then  at  him,  with  a  blush. 

"  Were  you  in  the  room,  then,  when  I  came  in,  watch- 
ing me?" 

"  I  must  confess  that  I  was." 

Netelka  frowned  a  little. 

"  What  did  I  do?  I  don't  like  to  be  watched  when  I  think 
I'm  alone." 

"  Of  course  not.  Nobody  does.  Nobody's  conscience  is 
clear  enough.  I  will  show  you  what  you  did :  I  will  copy 
you  exactly.  You  stand  there,  in  that  window  recess,  just 
up  the  one  step,  and  peep  through  the  curtain.  That's 
what  I  did.  I  have  no  sense  of  honor.  I  watch  and  I  lis- 
ten whenever  there's  anything  interesting  to  see  or  to  hear: 
so  I  warn  you  to  be  on  the  lookout.  Now,  are  you  ready?" 

"  Quite,"  said  Netelka,  taking  her  place  behind  the  cur- 
tain. 

Gerard  went  out  of  the  room  and  returned  in  a  moment, 
entering  the  room  with  a  tragedy  stride  and  an  expression 
of  exaggerated  anxiety.  He  stopped  short  just  where  Ne- 
telka had  stopped,  dropped  the  fan,  clasped  his  hands,  and 
looked  up  at  the  ceiling.  Netelka  came  forward,  shaking 
her  head. 

"  I  didn't  do  that,"  she  said  decidedly.  "  You  have  read 
in  books  that  women  do  that,  but  they  don't,  you  know." 

"  Well,  the  action  is  expressive,  if  conventional ;  and  I 
didn't  see  my  way  to  getting  enough  intensity  of  expression 
into  my  face  to  make  the  clasped  hands  and  the  upturned 
eyes  unnecessary." 

Netelka  suddenly  grew  serious. 

u  You  ought  not  to  laugh,  however  ridiculous  I  looked," 


A  SHEEP  IN  WOLF'S  CLOTHING.  79 

she  said  gravely,  "for  what  I  felt  was  on  your  account 
more  than  on  anybody  else's." 

Gerard  raised  his  eyebrows,  looked  down  on  the  ground, 
and  gave  a  little  mocking  bow. 

"  You're  very  kind,  I  am  sure,"  said  he. 

"  Ah,"  sighed  Netelka,  as  she  seated  herself  on  alow  set- 
tee and  looked  at  the  fire,  "  it  is  I  who  am  insufferable  now !" 

Gerard  did  not  immediately  reply.  When  he  did,  it  was 
to  murmur  in  a  conventional  tone,  "  Not  at  all,  I  assure 

you." 

"It  is  I,"  went  on  Netelka,  "who  am  taking  a  liberty 
now." 

"Are  you?     I  shouldn't  have  found  it  out  by  myself." 

Already  there  was  a  little  constraint  in  his  tone,  as  if  he 
knew  what  it  was  in  her  heart  to  say  to  him,  and  resented 
her  interference  in  advance.  Netelka  suddenly  turned  upon 
him  a  very  different  look  from  any  that  he  had  yet  seen  in 
her  eyes.  It  was  a  pleading,  earnest  expression,  almost  pas- 
sionate in  its  intensity. 

"  But  you  will  find  it  out  if  you  stay  here  so  much  as  a 
minute  longer,  for  I  shall  take  a  real  liberty,  a  great  lib- 
erty. I  want  to  lecture  you :  I  want  to  preach  to  you :  I 
want  to  make  you  ashamed  of  yourself.  Now  you  are 
warned.  And  you  needn't  stay  unless  you  like." 

For  a  few  moments  Gerard  looked  as  if  he  would  not  stay. 
He  glanced  at  the  door,  with  a  very  definite  expression  of 
defiance  on  his  mouth.  Then  he  glanced  again  at  the  lady, 
and  changed  his  mind. 

He  began  by  heaving  a  deep  sigh. 

"I'll  stay,"  said  he,  "and  I'll  listen.  But  that's  as  far 
as  I  will  undertake  to  go,  and  I  hope  you  will  consider  that 
is  enough  of  a  concession.  Not  only  will  I  not  promise  to 
give  up  doing  anything  I  like,  but  I  promise,  to  start  with, 
that  I  won't  give  it  up." 


80  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Netelka  sighed  in  her  turn,  but  cheerfully;  for  if  the  wo- 
man who  hesitates  is  lost,  surely  the  man  who  listens  is  lost 
too. 

"Sit  there,"  said  Netelka,  indicating  a  chair  at  a  short 
distance. 

But  Gerard  began  to  be  refractory  at  once. 

"No,  "said  he.  "I  don't  like  that  chair.  It's  a  wo- 
man's chair,  made  for  showing  off  a  lady's  dress.  I 
shouldn't  look  at  all  graceful  in  it.  You  would  never  get 
me  to  repent  while  I  sat  in  a  chair  like  that." 

"  Choose  your  own  chair,  then." 

Gerard  went  all  round  the  room  slowly,  sitting  down  on 
all  the  chairs  in  succession,  throwing  back  his  head  and  set- 
tling his  arms  in  each,  as  if  determined  to  find  one  which 
should  be  perfectly  comfortable  in  all  respects. 

"Never  saw  such  a  lot  of  chairs!"  he  murmured  de- 
spondently in  the  course  of  his  tour.  "This  one's  a  nice 
height,  but  the  back's  too  short.  And  this  one,"  as  he  tried 
the  next,  "would  be  perfect  if  it  only  had  arms." 

He  wanted  to  tire  out  Netelka's  patience,  to  make  her 
laugh,  and  to  restore  the  conversation  to  the  level  of  friv- 
olity he  preferred. 

But  she  tired  him  out.  Sitting  quietly  on  the  settee, 
with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  fire,  she  would  not  turn  her 
head  to  notice  his  antics,  but  waited  tranquilly  until  he 
stood  before  her  once  more. 

*'  I  think  I'll  settle  upon  this,"  said  he,  as  he  dragged  for- 
ward a  little  light  Algerian  seat,  made  of  two  crosspieces 
of  wood  with  a  skin  slung  between,  "  because  it  looks  so  jolly 
uncomfortable.  Even  if  what  you  say  to  me  shouldn't  make 
me  feel  sorry,  I  think  I  can  manage  to  look  sorry  if  I  sit 
on  this  long  enough." 

Again  the  humorous  blue  eyes  sought  hers,  but  found  no 
answering  expression  of  amusement  in  Netelka's  black  ones. 


A  SHEEP  IN  WOLF'S  CLOTHING.  81 

On  the  contrary,  when  she  smiled,  it  was  with  a  look  of  in- 
finite sadness. 

"  I  don't  want  to  make  yon  sorry,"  said  she.  "  To  begin 
with,  I  don't  know  whether  you  have  anything  to  be  sorry 
for,  but  I  want  to  persuade  you  to  give  up  baccarat." 

"  Why?" 

"  Because  it's  a  thing  that  can  do  no  good  to  anybody, 
and  that  may  do  a  great  deal  of  harm." 

"  To  me  in  particular?" 

"Ye— es,  I  think  so." 

"Again — why?" 

Netelka  looked  rather  taken  aback.  She  had  spoken  upon 
an  impulse,  a  not  inexplicable  impulse;  but  she  was  not 
prepared  with  a  detailed  explanation  of  her  motives.  She 
opened  her  fan  and  shut  it  again. 

"  Because — "  she  began,  and  stopped.  Suddenly  Gerard 
came  to  her  aid.  She  found  that  the  light  blue  eyes  were 
a  little  nearer  to  her,  looking  up  into  her  face» 

"Never  mind,"  said  he  gently.  "You  are  quite 
right,  even,  though  you  can't  explain.  When  you  say 
'baccarat,'  you  let  'baccarat'  stand  for  a  lot  besides,  don't 
you?" 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  do." 

"  Let  us  talk  it  out,  then.  Would  you  be  bored  to  death 
if  I  told  you  all  about  it,  and  myself,  and  how  it  all  came 
about?  You  could  preach  to  me  ever  so  much  better  if  you 
knew  all  about  me,  couldn't  you?" 

"I'm  afraid  it  wouldn't  do  you  much  good." 

"  Well,  it  would  do  me  good  to  tell  you.  You  see  it's 
so  much  time  saved  from  baccarat." 

"  Go  on,  then. " 

The  wind  was  rising,  beating  the  evergreens  against  the 
tiny-paned  modern-mediaeval  windows.  The  candles  with 
which  the  room  was  lighted  flickered  a  little  in  the  draught. 
6 


82  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Gerard  drew  his  uncomfortable  seat  closer  to  the  fire,  and 
sitting  with  bent  head,  and  his  hands  clasped  loosely  to- 
gether, he  told  her  his  story,  while  the  firelight  threw 
strange  shadows  on  his  face  and  brought  unsuspected  fur- 
rows into  view. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AN  EXCHANGE  OF  CONFIDENCES. 

THERE  was  a  seductive  charm  in  the  long,  luxurious  room, 
with  its  low  ceiling,  its  corners,  its  rugs,  and  its  big  square 
cushions.  Netelka  now  noticed  it  for  the  first  time,  as 
Gerard  Waller  drew  closer  to  the  fire  and  began  his  story 
in  the  low-pitched  confidential  tone  of  an  old  friend. 

Even  while  she  listened  to  him  she  was  asking  herself 
unconsciously  how  it  was  that  this  was  the  first  time  that 
the  handsome  apartment  had  worn  a  homelike  air.  Of 
course  the  reason  was  that  until  to-day  she  had  been  miser- 
able in  it,  and  that  she  now  heard  a  sympathetic  human 
voice  in  it  for  the  first  time. 

Gerard  had  got  as  far  as  to  tell  her  that  he  was  the  son  of 
an  ironmaster,  and  that  he  was  born  near  Middlesborough, 
that  he  was  now  twenty-three  years  of  age,  and  that  he  was 
reading  for  the  Bar,  when  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  atten- 
tion of  his  hostess  was  wandering.  He  stopped  short,  and 
sat  up. 

"  1  am  boring  you,"  he  said. 

Netelka  started,  and  denied  the  accusation. 

"But  you  were  not  listening." 

"  I  was.  I  believe  I  could  repeat  what  you  have  said  word 
for  word.  And  yet  it  is  true  that  I  was  thinking  of  some- 
thing else  at  the  same  time." 

"  Is  it  a  secret?" 

Netelka  hesitated. 


84  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Hardly  that,"  she  said  at  last. 

And  then  she  looked  at  him  with  a  peculiar  expression, 
which  made  Gerard  smile. 

"Might  one  be  permitted  to  hazard  a  guess?"  asked  he. 

"One  might." 

"  Then  were  you  wondering  just  a  little  to  find  yourself 
sitting  cosily  here  by  the  fireside  listening  like  an  old  friend 
to  the  maunderings  of  a  fellow  whom  a  few  hours  ago  you 
had  never  seen?" 

Their  eyes  met  frankly,  and  they  both  laughed. 

"  Something  like  that,  perhaps. " 

Gerard  leaned  back  thoughtfully. 

"  It  wasn't  so  very  wonderful  that  I  should  guess  your 
thoughts  like  that,"  said  he,  "for  they  were  in  my  own 
mind  too.  You  see  I  had  heard  about  you,  just  enough  to 
make  me  expect  some  one  quite  different.  They  talked  as 
if " 

Gerard  pulled  himself  up  very  suddenly,  as  it  flashed 
through  his  mind  that  the  lady's  husband  was  one  of  the 
two  persons  who  had  spoken  to  him  about  her,  and  that  the 
impression  Linley  had  given  him  was  of  some  horrid  old 
cat  of  whom  he  himself  was  afraid.  The  moment  he  hesi- 
tated, Netelka,  greatly  interested,  snapped  him  up : 

"As  if  what?" 

"  Oh,  as  if  you  were  so  very,  very  prim,  and — and  partic- 
ular. They  quite  frightened  me.  I  thought,  well,  I  think 
I  had  got  it  into  my  head — though  they  certainly  never  said 
that — that  Linley  had  married  a  woman  much  older  than 
himself;  that  we  should  find  a  stately,  well-preserved  old 
lady  on  the  wrong  side  of  fifty,  instead  of,  instead  of " 

He  glanced  at  her  shyly,  broke,  off,  and  laughed  again. 
Netelka  laughed  too. 

"  No,  I'm  still  on  the  right  side  of  fifty  by — let  me  see — 
twenty-eight  years." 


AN  EXCHANGE  OF  CONFIDENCES.  85 

"Oh,"  said  Gerard  with  interest.  "Twenty-two.  Then 
yon  are  just  a  year  older  than  I  am. " 

Netelka  thought  that  there  was  perhaps  a  shade  too  much 
camaraderie  in  his  tone ;  for  it  was  essential  to  her  plans 
that  he  should  have  for  her  the  most  absolute,  nay,  almost 
crushing,  respect.  He  must  not  be  allowed  to  think  that  he 
was  near  enough  to  her  own  age  to  be  able  to  "  talk  her 
over"  to  his  own  views  on  the  gambling  question. 

"  It  doesn't  count  like  that,  though,"  she  said  with  great 
solemnity.  "  For  a  woman  of  twenty,  for  instance,  is  quite 
ten  years  older  than  a  man  of  the  same  age.  You  know 
that  is  admitted." 

"Who  admits  it?"  asked  Gerard  rather  flippantly. 

"  You  have  got  to  admit  it,"  retorted  Netelka;  "and 
to  admit,  therefore,  that  I  have  the  authority  of  a  person 
nine  years  older  than  yourself." 

She  was  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  demure  little  look  he 
gave  her;  but  he  said  "All  right,"  and  asked  if  he  should 
go  on  with  his  story. 

It  was  short,  and  easily  told.  His  father  had  been  a  man 
of  few  domestic  tastes,  harsh  and  irritable  at  home.  His 
mother  had  been  an  angel,  about  whom  Gerard  did  not  care 
to  talk  much  even  now.  She  had  died  when  he,  her  only 
child,  was  ten,  and  from  that  time  until  he  was  twenty-one 
he  had  been  more  or  less  miserable.  His  father  had  never 
married  again,  but  had  got  his  own  sister,  a  harsh  and  Puri- 
tanical woman,  to  keep  house  for  him.  Gerard  had  been 
taken  from  school  when  he  was  only  seventeen,  and  had  been 
in  the  office  of  one  of  his  father's  friends  at  Middlesbor- 
rough  until  he  reached  the  age  of  twenty-one. 

"  Then  I  broke  loose,"  said  Gerard  rather  savagely.  "  My 
father  had  enjoyed  himself  in  his  time,  and  I  was  not  going 
to  spend  all  the  best  years  of  my  life  in  a  hole  I  hated.  My 
father,  I  must  tell  you,  is  one  of  the  richest  men  in  those 


86  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

parts,  and  there  was  no  need  for  me  to  keep  my  nose  to  the 
grindstone.  I  had  a  short  and  sharp  tussle  with  him,  and 
at  last  I  got  him  to  consent  to  my  coming  up  to  London  to 
read  for  the  Bar.  I'm  'eating  my  terms'  now.  He 
wouldn't  have  given  way  even  then,  but  that  he  saw  that,  if 
I  didn't  come  away  with  his  permission,  I  should  come 
away  without  it." 

Gerard  was  speaking  in  the  dogged  tone  of  a  person  with 
a  grievance.  Netelka  at  once  stood  up  for  the  absent 
father. 

",I  don't  think,"  she  began,  with  all  the  authority  of 
the  nine  years'  superior  dignity  to  which  she  had  laid  claim, 
"  that  you  have  any  right  to  speak  as  if  you  were  ill-used. 
No  doubt  your  father  'kept  you  to  the  grindstone,'  as  you 
call  it,  because  he  thought  it  best  for  you .  I  can  under- 
stand that  thoroughly  business-like  habits  must  be  necessary 
in  a  man  who  will  some  day  be  the  owner  of  a  great  deal  of 
property. " 

Gerard  shook  his  head. 

"  I  don't  think  myself  that  was  his  chief  object,"  said  he; 
"  at  any  rate,  if  it  was,  he  defeated  his  own  end,  for  the 
experience  I  had  has  disgusted  me  with  the  desk  forever. 
I  don't  care  if  the  whole  concern  comes  to  grief  or  not:  I'll 
never  go  back  to  that  hole  as  long  as  I  live. " 

"Not  to  see  your  father?" 

"  I  run  up  now  and  then  to  see  him,  and  when  I  do  he 
just  gives  a  grunt  when  he  sees  me  and  goes  on  reading  his 
book  or  his  paper.  And  to  show  his  sense  of  my  deficien- 
cies, he  only  allows  me  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year 
to  live  upon." 

"  A  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year!"  echoed  Netelka  in 
astonishment. 

"  Yes.  It  pays  for  my  boots  and  gloves,  and  there  is 
something  left  toward  neckties." 


AN  EXCHANGE  OF  CONFIDENCES.  87 

"  It  ought  to  make  you  economical,"  said  Netelka,  doubt- 
fully. "But " 

The  word  was  expressive,  but  the  tone  was  more  so. 
Gerard  looked  at  her  and  then  at  the  hearth-rug. 

"  But  it  doesn't,"  said  he,  simply.  "  My  expenditure — in 
ready  money,  that  is  without  counting  debts — during  the 
last  two  years  has  been  about  two  thousand  five  hundred 
a  year." 

"But  how,"  asked  Netelka,  more  shocked  than  puzzled, 
though  she  seemed  to  be  both,  "  do  you  manage  to  spend  just 
two  thousand  three  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  more  than  you 
have?" 

"  Oh,  it's  easy  enough ;  too  easy,  in  fact.  By  the  help 
of  the  much-maligned  Hebrew  race,  these  little  things 
can  be  done  quickly  enough — at  a  certain  price,  of 
course. " 

Netelka  drew  herself  up.  Her  face  had  grown  grave  and 
rigid. 

"  It's  horrible!"  she  said  under  her  breath. 

The  exclamation  did  not  refer  to  the  story  she  had  just 
heard,  but  to  one  which  she  read  between  the  lines:  of  Mr. 
Harrington  Moseley's  financial  assistance  to  this  young  fel- 
low, of  her  husband's  assistance  to  the  Jew,  of  her  own  in- 
voluntary share  in  the  arrangements  of  these  two. 

"Why  horrible?" 

Netelka  made  no  answer.  She  got  up  from  her  chair  and 
walked  to  the  fireplace,  where  she  moved  one  of  the  can- 
delabra from  one  side  of  the  mantelpiece  to  the  other. 

"  Is  it  the  candle-light  that's  horrible?" 

"Yes,"  answered  she  readily.  "The  draught  from  the 
window  makes  them  gutter." 

"Oh,  I  see." 

Gerard  had  not  been  born  in  the  North  country  for  noth- 
ing; and  he  understood  more  than  he  pretended  to.  He 


88  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

was  wise  enough,  also,  to  be  satisfied  with  the  explanation 
the  lady  chose  to  give  him. 

There  was  a  long  silence,  at  the  end  of  which  Netelka, 
who  had  been  occupying  herself  with  that  never-failing  re- 
source in  cold  weather,  the  fire,  addressed  him  again,  with 
some  suddenness: 

"  Have  you  no  sister?" 

"  No.  I  had  one,  but  she  died — of  consumption,  I  be- 
lieve. They  thought  I  should  go  off  like  that  too.  I'm 
always  being  told  even  now  that  I  ought  to  be  careful." 

"And  are  you?" 

"  Of  course  not.  One  may  as  well  die  one  way  as  another. 
If  I  am  to  choose  between  living  in  a  hothouse  on  tea  and 
toast  till  I  am  eighty,  and  dying  at  five-and -twenty  after 
enjoying  myself  thoroughly  for  four  years,  I  would  choose 
the  latter  without  hesitation." 

"That  is  very  selfish," 

"  How  is  it  more  selfish  than  eighty  years  of  coddling 
oneself,  and  throwing  oneself  into  a  panic  about  every  puff 
of  fresh  air  that  reaches  one?" 

"And  isn't  there  a  happy  mean  between  those  two?" 

"  Not  for  me.  A  mean  there  may  be,  but  not  a  happy 
one." 

"  Then  you  find  your  happiness  entirely  in  selfish  enjoy- 
ment?" 

"  Entirely.  So  does  everybody.  We're  all  selfishly  in- 
tent in  getting  all  the  enjoyment  we  can  out  of  life — all,  that 
is,  who  are  not  intent  on  talking  the  enjoyment  out  of  life 
for  other  people.  There  are  only  those  two  classes.  Some- 
times they  overlap,  and  result  in  the  man  who  finds  his  en- 
joyment in  depriving  other  people  of  theirs." 

"  Of  course  it's  amusing  to  hear  you  talk  like  that,  but 
it's  all  wrong,  and  you  know  it.  Those  of  us  who  don't  live 
for  others  in  any  way  are  mere  brutes." 


AN  EXCHANGE  OF  CONFIDENCES.  89 

"  Not  at  all.  Those  who  live  for  others,  as  you  call  it,  find 
their  enjoyment  in  doing  so,  don't  you  see?  They  think 
they  are  unselfish,  but  they  are  nothing  of  the  kind:  they 
are  merely  satisfying  their  own  instincts.  It  seems  unkind 
to  say  so,  but  I  maintain  that  the  unselfishness  usually  as- 
cribed to  your  sex  is  a  delusion.  It  is  a  pleasure  with  you 
ladies  to  make  martyrs  of  yourselves ;  to  give  up  the  most 
comfortable  chair  and  to  mend  socks  until  your  eyes  ache : 
it  gives  you  the  feeling  that  you  are  playing  the  part  of  a 
beneficent  Providence  to  the  rudderless  creature,  man. 
Now,  ain't  that  true?" 

"Perhaps,"  assented  Netelka  smiling. 

Gerard  went  on  more  emphatically: 

"  The  beneficent  Providence  idea  is  at  the  root  of  all  al- 
truism. I  sincerely  trust,  Mrs.  Hilliard,"  he  went  on,  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "  that  I  have  succeeded  in  disabusing 
you  of  the  notion  that  in  trying  to  'do  good,'  as  I  believe 
it  is  called,  to  any  member  of  the  grosser  sex,  a  woman  does 
anything  but  indulge  the  instinct  for  playing  beneficent 
Providence  to  somebody?" 

But  the  smile  on  Netelaka's  face  had  gradually  faded. 
She  rose  from  the  hearth-rug,  sighing. 

"  I  understand  what  you  mean,"  she  said  very  gravely  and 
sweetly.  "  You  desire  that  I  shall  not  Jet  my  form  of  self- 
ishness interfere  with  yours.  Well,  just  for  to-night  I  will 
try.  But  I  warn  you  not  to  enjoy  yourself  selfishly  over 
baccarat  in  this  house,  or  I  shall  have  to  enjoy  myself  self- 
ishly by  stopping  your  selfish  enjoyment,  or  by  leaving  the 
house  to  indulge  other  forms  of  selfish  enjoyment  else- 
where." 

Their  eyes  met  again.  An  expression  of  touching  seri- 
ousness in  those  of  the  woman  brought  a  flash  of  sympathy 
into  those  of  the  man.  Gerard  sprang  up  and  stood  close 
beside  Netelka,  looking  suddenly  shy. 


90  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Are  you  in  earnest?"  asked  he.  "  Does  it  really  matter 
to  you?" 

"  Matter !  Oh !"  Netelka  was  half  crying,  "  I  should  think 
it  does!  It  is  simply  too  dreadful  to  see  all  of  you  playing 
into  the  hands  of  this  Jew,  and — and  throwing  away  money 
just  to  benefit  him!" 

Then  she  turned  away  her  head,  blushing  painfully,  re- 
membering that  her  own  husband  must  share  the  blame  of 
Mr.  Moseley's  proceedings.  Gerard  noted  the  blush,  and 
probably  guessed  the  cause.  At  any  rate,  he  took  a  lighter 
tone  in  answering  her. 

"Don't  you  give  rather  a  superstitious  reverence  to 
money?"  he  said.  "Why  shouldn't  we  spend  it  as  we 
please?  And  why  shouldn't  we  pay  for  anticipating  the  use 
of  it,  if  we  like?  Don't  you  know  that  money  can't  pass 
from  one  hand  to  another  without  benefiting  some  one? 
And  that  spendthrifts  have  their  appointed  mission  in  the 
world?" 

"Ah,  but  what  will  you  do  when  the  money's  spent? 
Isn't  it  absurd  to  risk  years  of  poverty  for  the  sake  of  a  few 
months  of  extravagant  waste?  Oh,  if  you  knew  what  it  is 
to  be  miserably,  miserably  poor,  if  you  knew  what  it 
makes  people  ready  to  do,  you  wouldn't  risk  it,  I  am 
sure!" 

The  words  died  away  on  Netelka's  lips.  Her  color 
changed  from  rosy  pink  to  ashen  gray.  The  hand  she  had 
raised  in  earnest  gesticulation  fell  down  at  her  side.  A 
great  tear  appeared  in  her  dark  eyes. 

Gerard  turned  his  head  quickly,  following  her  glance. 
Linley,  fair,  pale,  effeminate-looking  as  ever,  had  come  with 
his  light,  womanish  step  and  his  little  mincing  manner, 
into  the  room.  He  had  come  as  far  as  a  little  side-table,  on 
which  stood  some  books  and  porcelain  figures. 

"  Ah !    Here  you  are,  Waller.    We've  all  been  wondering 


AN  EXCHANGE  OF  CONFIDENCES.  91 

what  had  become  of  you.  You  have  been  much  missed — 
in  the  smoking-room." 

Gerard  was  not  easily  taken  at  a  disadvantage.  He  an- 
swered imperturbably : 

"  I  thought  you  were  all  coming  in  here,  or  I  certainly 
should  not  have  obtruded  myself  upon  •  Mrs.  Milliard.  I 
shall  have  to  ask  you  to  intercede  with  her  for  me  for  hav- 
ing bored  her  to  death." 

"She  doesn't  look  bored,"  said  Linley  in  his  gentlest 
tones. 

His  face  betrayed  nothing  whatever.  He  might  have  been 
the  gentlest,  sweetest-tempered,  most  harmless  little  man 
in  the  world  but  for  his  wife's  expression  of  consternation 
and  alarm.  It  "  gave  him  away,"  as  Gerard  said  to  himself. 

"  Netta,  my  dear,"  went  on  Linley  in  the  kindest  and  most 
persuasive  of  tones,  "  you  mustn't  sit  up  any  longer.  These 
lads  will  be  up  smoking  and  telling  pointless  stories  till  two 
or  three  in  the  morning,  so  that  they  will  be  too  tired  to 
come  down,  like  decent  people,  in  time  for  church.  But  you 
are  not  to  put  yourself  out  on  their  account :  let  them  go 
their  own  way  and  look  after  their  own  souls." 

Gerard  had  by  this  time  shaken  hands  with  Netelka,  and 
followed  his  host's  suggestion  to  the  extent  of  walking  to 
the  door.  There  he  paused  a  moment,  and  looked  back. 

And  he  saw  Linley  emphasize  his  last  words  to  his  wife 
with  a  very  expressive  frown. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

NETELKA'S  CONVERT. 

THE  morning's  thoughts  are  so  different  from  those  of 
the  night !  Netelka  had  gone  to  bed  heartbroken,  despair- 
ing, believing  that  her  attempted  remonstrance  with  Gerard 
Waller  had  been  thrown  away,  and  that  her  husband  was  so 
deeply  displeased  with  her  that  a  final  rupture  with  him 
was  imminent.  She  had  been  awake  when  Linley  came  up- 
stairs to  bed  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  but  she  had 
feigned  sleep  to  avoid  a  conversation  which  she  feared. 

When  her  early  cup  of  tea  was  brought,  however,  and  she 
saw  the  sun  streaming  in  between  drawn  window-curtains, 
and  her  husband  gave  her  a  morning  kiss  with  seraphic 
cheerfulness,  Netelka  found,  with  surprise,  that  her  views  of 
life  were  not  the  same  as  on  the  previous  night.  It  was 
not  that  she  had  forgotten  the  incidents  of  the  evening,  but 
that  she  was  now  able  to  persuade  herself  that  they  might 
bear  a  less  tragic  interpretation  than  the  one  she  had  put 
upon  them. 

What  harm  was  there  in  card-playing  among  friends? 
And  what  proof  had  she  that  the  stakes  they  played  for 
would  have  been  so  high  as  to  shock  her?  She  began  to  feel 
ashamed  of  her  interference  in  the  dining-room,  and  a  blush 
tingled  in  her  cheeks  as  she  thought  of  her  unavailing  ap- 
peal to  Gerard  Waller. 

How  he  must  have  laughed  at  her!  She  told  herself  that 
he  had  probably  related  to  his  friends,  Sam  Teale  and  Ar- 
thur Sainsbury,  the  story  of  her  little  sermon.  It  must, 


NETELKA'S  CONVERT.  93 

she  thought,  have  seemed  particularly  piquant  and  amusing, 
coming,  as  it  did,  from  the  wife  of  the  man  who  had  asked 
him  and  his  friends  down  here  with  the  promise,  expressed 
or  implied,  of  a  long  and  uninterrupted  gambling  bout! 

As  she  sipped  her  tea  her  husband's  voice  startled  her. 

"Well,"  said  he  cheerfully,  "what  are  you  so  serious 
about?" 

She  was  sitting  by  the  fire  in  her  dressing-gown,  and  she 
turned,  with  a  rapid  change  of  color.  She  had  drawn  back 
the  curtains  of  one  of  the  windows  very  softly,  and  the  light 
of  the  winter  sun  streamed  on  her  face. 

Linley  laughed  softly. 

"  Did  I  frighten  you?"  asked  he  gently. 

"Yes,  rather.     I  thought  you  were  asleep." 

Linley  laughed  again.  He  seemed  in  the  sweetest  of  hu- 
mors this  morning. 

"  Mustn't  go  to  sleep  again,  or  I  shall  be  late  for  church," 
said  he.  "  And  with  the  house  full  of  those  devil-may-care 
young  scapegraces,  it  behooves  us  to  set  a  specially  good  ex- 
ample and  to  be  specially  careful  of  our  reputation  with 
our  neighbors." 

"Oh,  yes,"  assented  Netelka,  not  quite  knowing  how  to 
meet  a  mood  so  unexpected. 

And  then  she  was  silent.  When  he  next  spoke  he  star- 
tled her  again,  for  he  had  wrapped  his  dressing-gown  round 
him  and  was  speaking  close  to  her  ear. 

"  Look  here,  Netta,  my  dear,"  said  he  in  a  caressing  tone, 
"  I  want  to  speak  to  you.  I  have  been  worrying  myself, 
darling,  because  I  seemed  rather  harsh  to  you  last  night." 
He  took  her  hand,  and  played  with  it  softly  with  his  own 
delicate  white  fingers  as  he  spoke.  "  You  see,  dearest,  it  was 
rather  trying — now,  wasn't  it? — to  have  my  wife,  my  own 
wife,  addressing  my  guests  as  if  they  were  swindlers,  and 
forbidding  them  to  enjoy  themselves  in  the  way  they  pre- 


94  A  SENSATIONAL  CASK 

f erred?  Surely,  my  dear,  if  I  were  satisfied  that  they  should 
amuse  themselves  with  a  game  at  cards,  that  ought  to  have 
been  enough  for  you.  Don't  you  think  so?  I  can't  tell 
you  what  a  painful  effect  it  had  upon  me  to  find  you  sud- 
denly acting  as  if  you  and  I  were  two  opposing  forces,  in- 
stead of  being,  as  we  have  always  been,  the  best  of  friends. 
How  was  it,  dear,  that  you  came  to  act  so?  Tell  me — come, 
come,  tell  me  how  it  was!" 

Netelka  trembled,  between  hope  and  fear,  as  she  looked 
into  her  husband's  countenance,  her  passionate  eyes  trying 
to  read  the  pale,  calm  face.  But  the  blue  eyes  kept  their 
own  secrets;  the  small  mouth,  small  enough  for  a  woman, 
with  its  pale,  bloodless  lips,  smiled  and  told  her  nothing. 

"  I — I — oh,  Linley,  I  am  sorry  I  spoke  as  I  did ;  very  sorry ! 
But  I  was  puzzled,  troubled.  I  have  heard  things  about 
this  house,  Linley,  heard  that  it  was  a  place  where  gam- 
blers used  to  come.  And  I  thought — how  could  I  help 
thinking? — when  I  found  that  the  same  men  were  coming 
down  here  that  used  to  come  before,  that  Moseley  was  de- 
ceiving us,  and  that  he  only  wanted  us  to  come  to  this  place 
to  give  it  an  air  of  respectability  by  pretending  that  we 
were  his  tenants,  while  really  he  meant  to  carry  on  the 
place  in  the  old  way !" 

Linley,  who  was  kneeling  beside  her  chair,  holding  her 
hand  in  his,  and  kissing  it  from  time  to  time  with  demon- 
strative affection,  listened  with  the  deepest  attention.  At 
the  end,  however,  he  laughed  rather  bitterly. 

"An  air  of  respectability!"  echoed  he.  "  When  we  are 
the  hero  and  heroine  of  a  gorgeous  scandal!  of  a  cause 
celebre." 

"  But  people  don't  know  that!"  whispered  Netelka,  with 
a  shiver.  "  And  if  they  did — oh !  if  they  did,  Linley — • 
wouldn't  they  be  sorry  for  us,  and  not  harsh  to  us?  You 
know  you  were  acquitted,  Linley,"  she  went  on  rapidly, 


NETELKA'S  CONVERT.  95 

clasping  his  hands  so  tightly  that  her  fingers  left  their  marks 
in  livid  patches  on  the  white  skin.  "  I  often  wish  they 
hadn't  persuaded  us  to  change  our  name,  Linley.  It  looks 
as  if — as  if " 

"  No,  it  doesn't,"  broke  in  her  husband,  rather  pettishly. 
"  It  doesn't  look  like  anything  but  what  it  is — an  attempt  to 
shield  ourselves  from  the  horrible  publicity  a  case  of  that 
kind  involves.  You  don't  know  the  world  as  well  as  I  do, 
nor  how  ready  people  are  to  think  the  worst.  Why,  if 
you'll  believe  me,  there  are  hundreds  of  people  about,  in 
spite  of  the  verdict,  who  think " 

"Oh,  don't,  don't!" 

Perhaps,  if  certain  awful  doubts  had  not  occasionally 
thrust  themselves  into  her  own  mind,  Netelka  would  not 
have  been  so  much  shocked  at  this  suggestion.  As  it  was, 
she  clutched  her  husband's  hands  and  clung  to  them,  as  if, 
by  the  force  of  her  wifely  affection,  she  could  thrust  out  and 
destroy  the  horrible  suspicion. 

"Ah,  well,"  said  Linley,  with  composure,  "it  is  as  I  say, 
I  assure  you.  Those  infernal  insurance  companies,  for  in- 
stance, have  been  awfully  difficult  to  deal  with,  and  I  have 
had  to  accept  a  compromise,  which  leaves  me  precious 
little  when  the  expenses  of  that  beastly  trial  are  all  paid. 
It's  a  shame  that  a  man  shouldn't  be  able  to  get  compen- 
sation in  these  cases  when  he's  proved  innocent,  after 
being  put  to  all  that  expense !  If  it  hadn't  been  for  the 
little  Hebrew,  goodness  only  knows  how  we  should  have 
scraped  along.  Of  course  he  expects  in  return  that  he  can 
bring  his  friends  down  here;  and  to  judge  by  the  way  you 
seemed  to  be  getting  on  with  that  young  Waller,  you  don't 
object  to  that  yourself!" 

Netelka  blushed  deeply,  recalling  the  scowl  with  which 
Linley  had  interrupted  her  tete-a-tete  with  Gerard  on  the 
previous  night. 


96  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Were  you  angry,  Linley?"  she  asked  quickly.  "Did 
you  think  I  had  made  friends  with  a  stranger  too  quickly?" 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  dear  me,  no,  child,"  answered  her  husband 
at  once,  with  a  laugh.  "  I  am  not  of  a  jealous  disposition, 
I  thank  Heaven;  and  I  should  as  soon  think  of  doubting 
the  purity  of  an  angel  as  of  believing  you  capable  of  indis- 
creet conduct." 

Netelka  looked  puzzled. 

"  Then  why " 

"Why  did  I  dismiss  you  so  curtly  last  night?  Well,  I 
thought,  from  some  words  I  heard  as  I  came  in,  that  you 
were  preaching.  Now  I  can't  stand  being  preached  to  my- 
self, and  I  don't  care  to  have  my  guests  preached  to  either; 
for  you  must  understand,  my  dear,  that  whoever  Harring- 
ton Moseley  likes  to  bring  down  here,  is  my  guest — and 
yours.  There,  now,  go  and  dress:  I  don't  want  to  preach 
any  more." 

"Oh,  Linley,"  whispered  Netelka,  almost  sobbing,  "if 
you  will  only  be  kind  to  me,  and  not  leave  me  days  and  days 
by  myself,  and  tell  me  things  gently,  and  not  with  those 
cold  eyes  you  sometimes  look  at  me  with,  you  will  find  there 
isn't  anything,  anything,  that  I  won't  do  for  you  without 
a  word !" 

Linley  gave  her  a  hasty  kiss,  assured  her  that  he  loved  her 
and  trusted  her,  and  should  do  so  to  the  end  of  his  life,  and 
told  her  again  to  dress  quickly,  and  not  to  be  late  for 
church. 

They  breakfasted  by  themselves,  the  young  men  failing, 
as  Linley  had  predicted,  to  put  in  an  appearance  so  early 
after  their  late  night.  Then  they  walked  soberly  to  church 
together,  arriving  in  good  time,  before  the  bells  had  ceased. 
Linley  had  already  secured  sittings,  more,  probably,  for  the 
opinion  of  his  neighbors  than  on  his  own  account.  He 
himself  occupied  the  inner  corner  of  the  pew,  with  a  very 


NETELKA'S  CONVERT.  97 

large  church  service  and  a  handsomely  bound  hymn-book, 
both  of  which  looked  new. 

Before  they  had  risen  from  their  knees  after  the  "  Confes- 
sion," a  third  person  entered  the  pew  quietly,  whose  loud 
breathing  betrayed  that  he  had  had  to  "  run  for  it." 

And  Netelka,  turning  her  head  as  she  rose,  saw  the  curly 
head  of  Gerard  Waller. 

She  looked  rather  astonished,  in  spite  of  herself. 

"  I've  had  no  breakfast.  Aren't  I  good?"  he  whispered, 
as  he  stood  up.  But  after  this  frivolous  and  unpromising 
beginning,  he  maintained  a  beautiful  solemnity  of  demeanor 
throughout  the  whole  of  the  service,  joining  in  the  hymns 
with  a  pleasant  light  tenor  voice,  and  not  looking  about 
him  more  than  in  reason. 

When  they  came  out  of  church,  Gerard  shook  hands  with 
Linley  and  his  wife,  and  as  Linley  was  seized  by  Major  Col- 
lingham,  Gerard  walked  on  with  Netelka. 

"The  worst  of  going  to  church  is,"  he  explained  cheer- 
fully, as  he  took  her  books,  "  that  it  makes  one  so  abom- 
inably conceited  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  I  haven't  felt  so  of- 
fensively cocksure  of  my  own  merits  for  two  years." 

"Why  did  you  come,  then?  Without  your  breakfast, 
too." 

"  That's  a  pretty  way  to  talk  to  your  own  convert !"  cried 
Gerard,  reproachfully.  "I  expected  to  find  you  over- 
whelmed with  joy  to  learn  that  your  sermon  had  taken  such 
good  effect.  I've  not  only  given  up  card-playing,  but  given 
you  the  church  attendance  in.  Oh!"  he  exclaimed,  below 
his  breath,  with  a  change  to  a  dismal  tone,  "here's  old 
mother  Oollingham  bearing  down  upon  us!  Can't  we  run 
round  a  tombstone  and  hide?  I  do  so  hate  to  have  my 
mind  disturbed  by  frivolous  people  of  that  sort  when  I'm 
coming  out  of  church!" 

"No,  you  can't  escape,"  said  Netelka  in  the  same  low 
7 


98  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

voice.  "  But  there's  some  one  with  her  whom  you  won't  be 
so  anxious  to  escape  from !"  And  Netelka  glanced  at  Jem, 
who,  with  a  bevy  of  small  brothers  and  sisters  around  her, 
was  looking  very  pretty,  very  ill-dressed,  and  shyer  than 
ever. 

But  Gerard  only  said,  "  I  don't  know.  Jem's  a  nice  girl, 
but  we  had  our  flirtation  out  the  year  before  last.  My 
goodness!  She's  lankier  than  ever." 

Then  the  Collinghams  came  up  with  them. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

POOR  JEM. 

WHEN  the  party  from  the  little  house  joined  the  party 
from  the  big  house,  the  greetings  on  the  one  side,  at  least, 
were  of  the  most  effusive  kind.  Mrs.  Collingham  kissed 
Netelka  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  shook  hands  with 
Gerard  as  if  he  had  been  for  years  the  benefactor  of  herself 
and  her  family. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Waller,  this  is  a  delightful  surprise !  Do 
you  know  it  was  only  the  day  before  yesterday  that  I  was 
saying  to  the  Major  that  it  was  an  age  since  we  had  seen 
you,  and  that  I  was  sure  you  had  forgotten  all  about  us!" 

"As  if  that  was  likely!  As  if  it  was  even  possible,  Mrs. 
Collingham,"  said  Gerard  politely.  "And  as  for  your 
thinking  of  me  the  day  before  yesterday,  my  devotion  to 
you  exceeds  yours  to  me,  for  I  was  thinking  of  you  only 
this  minute.  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Collingham?" 

Jem,  paralyzed  with  shyness,  not  knowing  whether  she 
was  most  happy  to  see  him  again  or  miserable  because  she 
was  no  longer  "Jem,"  gave  him  her  hand  with  that  painful 
girlish  constraint  which  passes  for  either  frigidity  or  rude- 
ness, replied  that  she  was  quite  well,  and  relapsed  into 
silence. 

Netelka  would  have  walked  on  with  Mrs.  Collingbam, 
leaving  the  two  young  people  together,  but  neither  Jem 
nor  Gerard  desired  this,  so  they  all  jogged  on  uncom- 
fortably in  a  straggling  line,  and  passed  out  of  the  church- 
yard gate  holding  such  conversation  as  they  could. 


100  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"And  now,  my  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard,"  said  Mrs.  Colling- 
ham,  coaxingly,  "  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  great  favor.  When 
you  called  the  other  day  my  husband  was  half-asleep,  and 
he  complains  that  I  didn't  let  him  have  a  chance  of  talk- 
ing to  you.  Now,  am  I  asking  too  much  if  I  beg  you  to 
come  in  this  afternoon  just  for  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  chat? 
It  will  be  nothing  more,  you  know;  one  can't  ask  people 
to  do  anything  on  Sundays  out  here;  this  isn't  quite  like 
town,  you  know!  And  one  doesn't  want  to  scandalize 
one's  neighbors!" 

Netelka  explained  that  she  could  not  very  well  come,  as 
there  were  friends  of  her  husband  staying  in  the  house. 
But  Mrs.  Collingham  overruled  this  objection.  She  would 
be  delighted  to  receive  as  many  of  Mrs.  Hilliard's  guests 
as  cared  to  come. 

"And  you,  of  course,  you,  Mr.  Waller,"  she  continued, 
turning  coquettishly  to  Gerard,  "are  a  very  old  friend." 

Gerard   heaved  a  meek  sigh. 

"I  am  but  a  lonely  and  helpless  bachelor,"  said  he, 
"without  any  will  of  my  own.  lam  as  a  lamb  in  the 
hands  of  my  hostess :  I  will  go  wherever  she  will  let  me 
follow  her." 

"There,"  said  Mrs.  Collingham,  turning  to  Netelka, 
"now  you  must  come.  I  shall  get  your  husband's  permis- 
sion. He  will  be  able  to  entertain  his  friends  by  himself 
for  an  hour,  I'm  sure.  They  can  smoke  to  pass  away  the 
time." 

And  Mrs.  Collingham  skipped  back  to  her  husband  and 
Linley,  leaving  Gerard,  Netelka,  and  Jem  to  go  on  to- 
gether. Then  Gerard  amused  the  ladies  with  accounts 
of  the  fearful  struggle  he  had  had  to  get  to  church  in 
time,  and  affected  to  be  so  hungry  that  he  had  to  steal 
stray  leaves  from  the  bay  trees  and  other  evergreens  which 
stood  within  reach  inside  the  gardens  they  passed,  fright- 


POOR  JEM.  101 

ening  Jem  into  the  belief  that  he  was  poisoning  him- 
self. 

Netelka  found  an  opportunity  before  they  reached  their 
respective  homes  of  exchanging  a  few  more  words  with 
Mrs.  Collingham.  She  thought  that  lady  must  be  ignorant 
of  the  kind  of  guests  to  whom  she  was  extending  such  a 
liberal  invitation. 

"  They  are  rather  a  rackety  set,  these  young  fellows  my 
husband  has  brought  down  with  him,"  she  said  to  the  elder 
lady  in  a  tone  too  low  to  reach  the  ears  of  their  husbands. 
"  My  husband  doesn't  much  care  what  his  friends  are  like 
as  long  as  they  are  lively. " 

"Why,  that's  just  like  me!"  chirped  Mrs.  Collingham 
effusively.  "  I  always  say  that  the  one  thing  I  beg  of 
people  is  that  they  shall  not  bore  me." 

"But,"  suggested  Netelka,  feeling  conscious  of  the  ab- 
surdity of  her  having  to  give  such  a  warning  to  a  matron 
ten  years  older  than  herself,  "they  are  hardly  the  best 
possible  companions  for  a  pretty  young  girl  like  Miss 
Collingham,  are  they?" 

But  Mrs.  Collingham  received  the  hint  in  a  manner 
which  irritated  Netelka  beyond  measure,  for  she  assumed 
the  easy  irresponsibility  of  perfect  confidence. 

"  Now,  do  you  know,  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard,  I  do  think  you 
make  such  a  mistake  in  assuming  that  because  a  girl  is 
young  she  must  necessarily  be  foolish,  and  that  because  a 
man  is  young  he  must  necessarily  be  bad !  I  assure  you  I 
have  no  such  fears  myself.  A  well  brought  up  girl  can 
be  trusted  anywhere.  I  know  I  could  when  I  was  un- 
married, and  I  have  every  confidence  that  my  girls  will  be 
the  same.  So  pray  don't  give  yourself  any  qualms  of  con- 
science on  Jem's  account,  but  bring  your  friends,  whoever 
they  are,  and  we  will  make  them  welcome." 

On  reaching  "The  Firs,"  Netelka  gave  the  invitations 


102  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

she  had  received  to  Arthur  Sainsbury  and  Sam  Teale,  both 
of  whom  were  smoking  cigarettes  with  an  up-all-night  look 
on  their  faces.  Netelka  thought  that  tea  next  door  might 
keep  them  out  of  mischief  for  the  afternoon,  at  least. 
Harrington  Moseley,  as  Netelka  had  expected,  preferred  to 
remain  at  "The  Firs,"  having,  so  he  said,  some  letters  to 
write.  Linley  excused  himself  also.  It  was  too  cold,  he 
said,  to  go  from  one  house  to  another  just  to  have  a  cup 
of  tea  which  he  could  enjoy  just  as  well  where  he  was. 

So  the  party  for  "  Maisonette"  consisted  of  Netelka  and 
the  three  young  bachelors.  It  was  not  a  very  successful 
entertainment.  Nobody  talked  freely  except  Mrs.  Colling- 
ham,  who  chattered  gayly  to  the  three  young  men,  who 
seemed  to  retire  into  their  shells  under  the  influence  of  her 
irrepressible  vivacity,  and  the  Major,  who  monopolized 
Netelka,  telling  her  tedious  stories,  and  paying  her  tedious 
compliments.  And  all  the  while  that  she  tried  to  listen 
she  was  haunted  by  two  things:  the  first  was  the  look  of 
humorous  gravity  in  Gerard's  eyes  which  she  found  fixed 
upon  her  whenever  she  turned  her  head  in  his  direction ; 
the  second  was  a  startling  appreciation  of  the  difference 
between  the  Major's  generation,  which  paid  and  accepted 
such  compliments,  and  her  own. 

As  for  Jem,  she  poured  out  the  tea,  and  she  answered 
when  she  was  spoken  to.  But  she  did  not  seem  to  be  en- 
joying herself  even  when  Netelka  contrived,  by  a  change 
of  seat,  to  leave  Gerard  sitting  next  to  the  young  girl. 

When  Netelka  suggested  that  she  must  not  leave  her 
husband  by  himself  any  longer,  all  her  bodyguard  rose  as 
one  man,  with  indecent  haste  to  get  out.  Mrs.  Colling- 
ham,  however,  who  had  not  perceived  that  the  entertain- 
ment palled  upon  them,  tried  to  engage  them  all  for  her 
"  afternoon"  on  the  following  Saturday. 

"We  shall  be  livelier  then,"  said  she  buoyantly,  evi- 


POOR  JEM.  103 

dently  not  conscious  that  they  were  anything  else  now, 
"for  I've  got  some  people  coming  who  can  do  things: 
sing,  and  recite,  and  play  the  mandolin.  And  there  will 
be  more  of  us." 

Arthur  Sainsbury  and  Sam  Teale  began  with  indecent 
haste  to  make  an  excuse.  Mrs.  Collingham,  telling  them 
playfully  that  they  were  "very  wicked  to  abandon  her," 
then  turned  impulsively  to  Gerard,  who  shot  a  glance  at 
Netelka,  and  then  looked  modestly  down  on  the  floor. 

"  I  should  only  be  too  delighted  to  come,  Mrs.  Colling- 
ham," he  said  in  a  demure,  little  boy's  voice,  "but  I  don't 
know  whether  I  shall  be  here  next  Saturday.  I  couldn't 
get  back  to  town  very  well  the  same  evening,  and " 

Again  he  glanced,  shyly,  or  rather  with  an  affectation 
of  shyness,  at  Netelka.  His  two  friends  laughed  heartily 
for  the  first  time  since  their  appearance  at  "Maisonette." 

"  Oh — ho!"  cried  Arthur,  speaking  at  last  with  his  natu- 
ral overwhelming  boisterousness,  and  with  a  laugh  that 
shook  the  teacups,  "  we  wouldn't  be  so  ill-mannered  as  to 
ask  for  an  invitation,  would  we?  Mrs.  Hilliard,  don't 
ask  him,  don't  let  him  come,  if  he  goes  on  his  knees." 

"  I  shouldn't  ask  him  if  he  had  that  most  inconvenient 
habit,  certainly,"  answered  Netelka  laughing.  "A  man 
takes  up  so  much  more  room  on  his  knees  than  on  his  feet, 
you  know ;  and  the  position  is  ungraceful  in  modern  dress. 
But  if  he  wants  very  much  to  come  to  Mrs.  Colling- 
ham's " 

"  I  do,  I  do !"  interpolated  Gerard  in  a  little  plaintive 
voice,  which  somehow  failed  to  carry  conviction  to  the 
minds  of  his  two  friends. 

"Why  then,"  continued  Netelka,  "I  shall  be  obliged  to 
promise  that,  if  he  gets  the  requisite  number  of  good-con- 
duct marks  during  the  week,"  and  she  gave  Gerard  a 
significant  look,  to  which  he  replied  by  a  sanctimonious 


104  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

look  upward  and  shake  of  the  head,  "  to  ask  him  down 
from  Saturday  to  Monday." 

"  I  thought  my  beautiful  behavior  would  find  its  reward 
sooner  or  later,"  said  Gerard  meekly.  "  I  thank  you  both, 
ladies,  from  the  very  bottom  of  my  heart,  for  your  kind- 
ness to  a  simple,  friendless  country  lad,  all  alone  by  him- 
self in  big,  wicked  London." 

Then  Netelka  had  to  get  out  with  her  bodyguard  as 
quickly  as  she  could,  for  Sam  and  Arthur  were  so  much 
tickled  by  the  whole  affair  that  their  correctness  of  con- 
duct was  no  longer  to  be  depended  upon;  and  she  was 
afraid  that  their  spasms  of  laughter  and  the  looks  they 
cast  at  Gerard  would  presently  strike,  even  in  Mrs.  Col- 
lingham's  simple  mind,  a  suspicion  of  their  good 
faith. 

As  she  looked  rather  anxious,  Gerard  acted  as  her  lieu- 
tenant, and  restored  some  sort  of  order  to  the  little  force 
until  the  door  of  "  Maisonette"  was  shut,  and  they  were 
safely  on  the  road  home.  Then  they  all  broke  into  the 
cruellest  laughter. 

"  So  glad  you've  enjoyed  yourself  so-o  much,  de-ar!"  said 
Arthur  sweetly  to  Sam. 

"Oh,  it  was  quite  too,  too  charming,  and  so  awfully, 
awfully  sweet  of  you  to  bring  me!"  said  Sam  to  Arthur. 

"  And  didn't  our  little  Gerard  behave  himself  well,  de-ar? 
And  wasn't  he  quite  a  credit  to  us?"  went  on  Arthur. 

"  And  didn't  he  show  up  the  behavior  of  his  two  chuckle- 
headed  companions?"  chimed  in  Gerard. 

And  then  Arthur  and  Sam  took  each  other's  hands  and 
skipped  along  in  a  juvenile  manner  as  far  as  the  door  of 
"The  Firs." 

"  Oh,  very  well,  now  I  know  what  you  do  as  soon  as  you 
come  out  of  a  house  where  everybody  has  done  his  best  to 
entertain  you,  and  treated  you  a  great  deal  better  than 


POOR  JEM.  105 

you  deserve,"  said  Netelka  severely.  "You  will  burlesque 
me  like  that  to-morrow!" 

"They  won't,  unless  they  want  their  heads  punched!" 
cried  Gerard  hotly. 

"Oh,  you're  different,"  said  Sam,  soberly. 

"  And  you  needn't  talk  about  punching  people's  heads, 
Waller,"  snapped  Arthur,  "for,  as  far  as  Mrs.  Hilliard  goes, 
we  are  all  on  the  same  side." 

And  they  all  entered  the  house  in  the  friendliest  mood, 
cemented,  as  is  the  way  with  poor  humanity,  by  their 
common  feeling  against  the  unlucky  Mrs.  Collingham. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

NETELKA'S  PLAN. 

WHEN  Netelka  had  taken  off  her  hat  and  come  down, 
dressed  for  dinner,  she  found  Arthur  and  Sam,  in  a  state 
of  the  wildest  high  spirits,  in  the  drawing-room.  She 
could  hear  Arthur's  boisterous  laugh,  indeed,  long  before 
she  reached  the  room.  As  she  entered,  the  two  rushed  up 
to  her,  both  talking  at  once,  and  laughing  so  much  at  the 
same  time  that  they  were  at  first  quite  unintelligible. 
Then  they  became  suddenly  silent,  and  bowed  their  heads 
low  before  her. 

"  Why,  what  have  you  done  to  yourselves?"  asked  Netelka, 
conscious  that  there  was  some  difference  in  their  appear- 
ance besides  that  caused  by  their  each  wearing  an  enor- 
mous bouquet  of  hothouse  flowers  as  a  button-hole. 

After  a  little  more  spasmodic  laughter,  they  drew  her 
attention  to  the  fact  that  they  had  curled  their  hair. 

"And  I  shouldn't  like  to  have  to  do  it  every  day,  like 
you  ladies,"  said  Arthur.  "I've  burned  my  fingers  and 
I've  singed  my  hair." 

"But  why  did  you  do  it?"  asked  Netelka,  whom  the 
lads  had  infected  with  their  own  merriment. 

"Well,  you  see,"  said  Sam,  "we  couldn't  stand  being 
cut  out  by  that  fellow  Waller.  He  stole  a  march  upon  us 
by  going  to  church,  so  we  thought  we  would  have  recourse 
to  more  worldly  arts  to  make  an  impression." 

"And  we  trust,"  said  Sam,  drawing  himself  up  and 
linking  his  arm  in  Arthur's  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has 


NETELKA'S  PLAN.  107 

distinguished  himself,  "that  we  have  succeeded.  Waller 
may  be  better  than  we  are,  but  can  you  honestly  say  that 
he  is  handsomer?" 

They  both  struck  attitudes  of  great  elegance,  and  Netelka, 
who  had  begun  on  that  day  to  remember  that  she  was 
young,  laughed  till  she  cried. 

In  the  midst  of  their  mirth,  Netelka  presently  observed 
that  a  slight  change  came  over  the  faces  of  the  two  young 
men.  It  was  not  a  very  great  change,  nor  a  very  definite 
one,  but  it  was  sufficient  to  cause  her  to  make  a  sudden 
effort  to  recover  her  gravity.  Turning  away  from  them  in 
order  the  better  to  effect  this,  she  saw  that  her  husband  had 
entered  the  room.  And  instantly  their  laughter  died  away. 
Yet  she  did  not  know  why.  The  fun  they  had  been  en- 
joying was  of  the  most  innocent,  not  to  say  childish,  kind, 
and  Linley  was  certainly  no  Puritan.  But  there  was  some- 
thing in  his  personality,  whether  it  was  excessive  refine- 
ment, or  lack  of  humor,  or  some  other  factor,  adverse  to 
laughter.  His  presence  seemed  to  dry  up  the  springs  of 
merriment,  and  to  remind  them  all  unpleasantly  that  they 
were  making  fools  of  themselves. 

It  seemed  that  he  felt  this,  and  was  annoyed  by  it. 

"Well,  what's  the  matter?  I'm  not  a  bogey,  am  I? 
Go  on,  go  on!"  said  he  irritably. 

"There's  nothing  to  go  on  with,"  exclaimed  Arthur. 
"  Sam  will  make  an  ass  of  himself,  and  he's  just  getting 
over  it,  that's  all." 

But  they  were  sobered,  and  Linley  knew  it,  and  only 
the  entrance  of  Harrington  Moseley  and  Gerard  prevented 
him  from  becoming  rather  disagreeable. 

"  We're  not  going  to  be  shuffled  off  to  the  smoking-room 
to-night — that  is,  not  if  you  will  have  anything  to  say  to 
us,"  said  Arthur  to  Netelka.  "You  will  have  us  to  amuse 
as  well  as  Waller." 


108  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Netelka  agreed  to  this,  although  she  was  afraid  of  meet- 
ing some  opposition,  or  at  least  disapprobation,  from  Mose- 
ley.  She  was  astonished  and  puzzled  to  find,  however, 
that  both  the  Jew  and  Linley  seemed  well  satisfied  with 
the  arrangement.  Netelka,  therefore,  was  not  left  long 
alone  in  the  drawing-room  after  dinner.  The  three  young 
men  followed  her  very  quickly,  but  without  either  her 
husband  or  the  Jew. 

"Aren't  the  others  coming?"  asked  she,  when  she  could 
make  herself  heard  during  a  moment's  cessation  of  Arthur's 
noisy  talk  and  laughter. 

"No,  we've  got  a  blessed  respite,"  explained  Arthur. 

And  then  he  blushed  and  stammered,  and  drew  atten- 
tion by  his  clumsy  confusion  to  the  awful  mistake  he  had 
made,  of  which  he  had  been  reminded  by  a  surreptitious 
thump  in  the  back  from  Sam. 

"I — I  mean,"  he  explained  neatly,  "that — that — that — 
we  shall  enjoy  their  society  all  the  more  afterward,  if — if 
they  don't  make  themselves  too  cheap  now." 

And  then  Arthur  retired  into  the  background  and  rolled 
up  his  eyes. 

"Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Netelka. 
"  Can  you  sing?" 

"/can,"  replied  Arthur  quickly,  "at  least  I  can  sing  as 
well  as  I  can  do  anything  else.  And  I  like  singing " 

"  Because  it  enables  you  to  bawl  even  louder  than  when 
you  are  talking,"  Gerard  finished  for  him.  "Never  mind, 
you  may  sing.  It  will  take  you  off  our  hands." 

"But  it  will  take  Mrs.  Hilliard  off  your  hands  too,"  re- 
torted Arthur  serenely,  "  because  I  can't  play  my  own 
accompaniments. " 

They  passed  an  evening  which  Netelka  found  curiously 
pleasant,  considering  the  intellectual  and  artistic  level  at 
which  both  music  and  conversation  were  kept  by  the  pres- 


NETELKA'S  PLAN.  109 

ence  of  Arthur,  who  bawled  sentimental  songs,  to  his  own 
entire  satisfaction,  in  a  voice  hoarse  with  smoking.  He 
had  obtained  permission  for  them  to  smoke,  and  he  did  not 
scruple  to  pause  even  in  the  middle  of  a  word  for  a  puff  at 
his  cigarette. 

"  It's  ever  so  much  jollier  than  it  used  to  be  two 
years  ago  to  come  down  here,"  Arthur  remarked,  when 
they  were  bidding  Netelka  good  night.  "There  used 
to  be  such  a  rackety  lot  down  here,"  pursued  he,  taking 
no  notice  of  the  derisive  laughter  of  Sam  and  Gerard. 
"One  couldn't  enjoy  one's  self  quietly  like  this:  it  was 
all  cards,  cards,  cards,  and  losing  one's  money  from 
morning  till  night,  and  night  till  morning  again. 
Whenever  you  like  to  have  me  down  here,  Mrs.  Hilliard, 
I  don't  mind  coming.  I  can't  say  more  than  that,  can 
I?" 

"Shut  up,  Arthur,  if  you  can't  express  yourself  better 
than  that,"  said  Sam  loftily. 

Gerard,  who  had  been  enjoying  himself  more  quietly 
than  the  rest,  got  a  word  with  Netelka  while  the  other  two 
had  a  short  altercation. 

"  I  never  enjoyed  myself  so  much  in  my  life,"  he  said 
simply.  "  You  make  the  place  what  a  home  ought  to  be, 
but  never  is,  as  far  as  I  can  make  out.  I  may  come  down 
again  on  Saturday,  may  I  not?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  thought  that  was  settled,"  answered  Ne- 
telka. "  I'm  looking  forward  to  it  quite  as  you  say  you 
are,  I  assure  you." 

"  I — I — I — "  stammered  Gerard,  and  stopped. 

Before  he  could  get  any  further  with  his  broken  sen- 
tence, Linley  and  Harrington  Moscley  came  in,  and  every- 
body grew  a  little  more  prim  of  manner  and  conventional 
of  speech. 

"Now,  mind,"  said  Netelka  imperiously,  in  a  low  voice 


110  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

to  Gerard,  "  you  are  to  make  these  boys  go  off  to  bed  with- 
out any  card-playing,  you  understand?" 

"Your  wishes  are  commands,  madam,"  replied  Gerard 
•with  a  burlesque  solemnity  which  allowed  her  to  see  that 
she  would  be  obeyed. 

The  next  morning  the  whole  party,  including  Linley 
himself,  went  up  to  town,  and  Netelka  missed  them  dread- 
fully. It  was  hardly  her  fault  that  she  did  not  miss  her 
husband  more  than  the  others.  Linley  was,  however,  par- 
ticularly affectionate  to  her  at  parting,  and  Harrington 
Moseley  expressed  to  her  his  conviction  that  her  "  gentle 
feminine  influence"  would  be  the  salvation  of  the  three 
young  men,  and  particularly  of  Gerard  Weller,  who  was," 
he  added,  with  a  solemn  shake  of  the  head,  "  on  the  high 
road  to  ruin." 

Netelka  shivered,  and  watched  them  all  drive  away  in 
the  cab,  which  had  been  ordered  for  the  purpose,  with  a 
painful  uneasiness.  The  Jew's  words,  if  they  had  been 
uttered  by  any  one  else,  would  have  given  her  unmixed 
pleasure:  coming  from  him,  they  filled  her  with  suspicion. 
She  had  never  liked  or  trusted  Harrington  Moseley:  she 
was  sure  he  was  making  "  a  good  thing"  out  of  the  ex- 
travagance of  these  young  men.  What  was  the  reason,  then, 
for  his  being  so  genuinely  delighted,  as  he  felt  sure  he  was, 
at  her  keeping  them  from  the  cards? 

The  week  passed  slowly  and  uneventfully  for  Netelka, 
the  principal  occurrence  of  any  importance  being  a  change 
for  the  worse  in  the  weather.  On  Thursday  the  sun  went 
in,  on  Friday  the  snow  came,  and  on  Saturday  the  wind, 
snow,  and  bitter  cold  made  it  impossible  to  do  so  much  as 
put  one's  head  outside  the  window.  Netelka  expected  a 
telegram  to  say  that  nobody  was  coming,  and  she  was  as- 
tonished when  a  cab  drove  up  in  the  afternoon  containing 
her  husband,  Moseley,  and  Gerard  Waller.  Gerard  had  a 


NETELKA'S  PLAN.  Ill 

bad  cold  and  was  looking  very  ill,  and  the  Jew,  to  do  him 
justice,  was  full  of  solicitude  on  his  account,  and  expressed 
much  annoyance  at  his  having  ventured  out  of  the  house 
in  such  weather.  The  young  fellow  himself,  however, 
made  light  of  his  condition,  and  only  hoped,  as  he  said  to 
Netelka,  that  she  would  forgive  him  for  presenting  himself 
when  he  was  such  a  pitiable  object. 

He  was  in  the  morning-room,  sitting  by  the  fire  and 
shivering  in  spite  of  the  warmth,  when  he  said  this. 
Netelka  had  just  brought  to  him  with  her  own  hands  a 
tumbler  of  hot  brandy  and  water. 

"Drink  this,"  said  she  imperiously,  "and  then  I  really 
think  I  shall  order  you  straight  to  bed." 

"  I  think  you'd  better,  if  I'm  to  drink  that,"  said  Gerard. 
"  I  don't  want  to  tell  you  all  my  secrets  until  I  feel  dis- 
posed to  do  so.  Of  course  I  ought  not  to  have  come,  I  know 
that;  I  shall  be  nothing  but  a  nuisance,  but — but " 

He  helped  himself  out  of  a  difficulty  he  felt  by  a  drink 
of  the  brandy  and  water. 

"You  won't  be  able  to  goto  the  Collinghams' !"  said 
Netelka  in  a  tone  of  despair. 

"  No.     That's  one  comfort. " 

"But  Jem!  Don't  you  know  I  have  made  a  plan  for 
you  to  marry  Jem?" 

"  That's  very  kind  of  you  I" 

"Well,  don't  you  like  it?" 

Gerard  took  another  drink,  and  appeared  to  be  consid- 
ering. 

"On  the  whole,  I  think  I  do,"  he  said  at  last.  He 
paused  a  little,  looking  at  the  fire.  "  I  shall  have  to  be 
down  here  a  great  deal,  if  I  carry  ont  your  plan !  Have 
you  considered  that?  When  I'm  down  here,  I  shall  feel 
bound  to  call  upon  you.  Won't  you  begin  to  find  me  a 
bit  of  a  bore?" 


112  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"No,  indeed,  I  shan't." 

"Then,"  said  Gerard,  "the  plan  of  campaign  is  already 
determined  upon.  It  only  remains  to  wait  for  open  weather 
to  begin  the  siege." 

He  had  to  wait  longer  than  he  expected,  however.  His 
cold  got  so  much  worse  that  they  thought  it  well  to  send 
for  the  doctor  that  night,  and  he  prescribed  a  stay  in  bed 
for  a  few  days  and  the  utmost  care.  Gerard  had  an  attack 
of  pneumonia,  through  which  he  was  tended  by  trained 
nurses.  All  the  time  his  illness  lasted,  both  Linley  and 
Harrington  Moseley  remained  at  "The  Firs,"  and  the 
latter  suffered  the  most  acute  and  genuine  anxiety. 

Netelka  was  quite  touched  by  this,  and  on  the  first  oc- 
casion that  Gerard  appeared  downstairs  again  she  men- 
tioned it  to  him  with  the  remark  that  she  felt  quite  ashamed 
of  herself  for  having  done  the  Jew  an  injustice  in  not 
having  credited  him  with  nearly  so  much  feeling  as  he 
possessed. 

But  Gerard  laughed. 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard,"  said  he,  "I  don't  doubt  that 
his  solicitude  was  genuine  enough.  My  death  before  my 
father's  would  mean  a  loss  to  him  of  between  seven  and 
eight  thousand  pounds." 

Netelka  took  this  statement  in  silence.  She  was  getting 
used  to  the  ways  of  financiers. 

Linley  and  Harrington  Moseley,  although,  to  do  them 
justice,  neither  of  them  showed  any  genuine  love  for  the 
society  of  the  other,  had  been  pretty  constant  companions 
during  the  last  few  days,  and  it  had  become  evident  to 
Netelka's  sharp  woman's  eyes  that  there  was  some  scheme 
hatching  between  them.  On  the  night  of  the  day  on 
which  Gerard  was  declared  convalescent  Linley  woke  his 
wife  up  to  tell  her  something. 

In  the  weak  light  of  the  little  oil  lamp  which  burned  all 


NETELKA'S  PLAN.  113 

night,  Liuley's  face  looked  grotesquely  ugly  and  distorted, 
Netelka  thought,  as  she  sat  up  in  bed  with  a  start. 

"  Don't  look  as  if  I'd  frightened  you !"  cried  Linley,  pet- 
tishly. He  had  grown  so  irritable  of  late  that  a  hasty 
movement  or  an  exclamation  would  annoy  him.  "Waller 
and  Moseley  and  I  had  a  long  talk  to-night  after  you  left 
the  dining-room. " 

"Yes,"  answered  she,  "I  noticed  that  you  were  a  long 
time  before  coming  into  the  drawing-room." 

"We  were  discussing  an  arrangement  that  somebody 
suggested.  This  young  Waller,  you  know,  is  by  no  means 
strong,  and  he  doesn't  get  properly  looked  after,  living  in 
chambers  in  town." 

Linley  paused,  expecting  that  his  wife  would  guess  what 
his  proposition  was.  But  if  she  did  so,  she  made  no 
sign. 

"Well?"  she  asked  presently. 

"Well,  how  would  you  like  it  if  we  let  him  come  and 
stay  with  us  for  a  little  while — at  any  rate  until  the  cold 
weather  is  over?  You  like  him,  don't  you?  You  seem  to 
get  on  with  him  capitally!" 

"Yes.  I  like  him  very  much,"  answered  Netelka,  who 
hardly  knew  why  the  suggestion  did  not  please  her.  "  But 
how  can  he  stay  here,  Linley,  when  you  are  hardly  ever 
here  yourself?" 

"  Oh,  if  we  carry  this  arrangement  into  effect,  of  course 
I  should  stay  here  all  the  time." 

Netelka's  face  fell  still  more.  It  was  rather  hard,  she 
thought,  that  it  wanted  some  inducement  of  this  kind  to 
make  her  husband  stay  with  her.  However,  there  had  not 
been  enough  confidence  lately  between  husband  and  wife 
for  her  to  care  to  tell  him  so. 

"Well,  don't  you  like  the  idea?"  asked  Linley  impa- 
tiently, after  a  pause. 
8 


114  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Ye-es,"  she  answered  doubtfully.  "At  least,  I  should 
if_if » 

"  If  what?" 

"If  Mr.  Moseley  didn't!" 

"What  an  absurd  prejudice  you  have  against  him!  It's 
most  ungrateful  of  you  too,  for  he  has  a  great  admiration 
for  you !" 

Netelka  said  no  more.  But  her  dreams  that  night  were 
haunted  by  her  vague  presentiments  of  evil. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WHERE  DOES  THE  MONET  COME  PEOM? 

FOUR  months  had  passed  since  Gerard  Waller  took  up  his 
residence  at  "The  Firs,"  and  winter  was  giving  way  to 
spring. 

A  new  era  of  pleasant,  easy  life  seemed  to  have  been  in- 
augurated for  everybody  by  that  arrangement.  Linley 
stayed  at  home,  pottered  about  the  grounds,  and  in  and  out 
of  the  hothouses  and  greenhouses,  and  was  nearly  always 
good-humored  and  amiable.  Mr.  Moseley  came  down  very 
often,  but  he  spent  most  of  the  day  writing  letters,  or  pro- 
fessing to  do  so,  in  a  room  which  had  been  set  apart  for  him 
for  that  purpose,  and  he  never  came  down  to  breakfast. 

As  for  Gerard,  he  did  not  look  like  the  same  man.  The 
unhealthy  pallor,  which  had  distinguished  him  on  his  first 
arrival,  had  disappeared ;  he  had  the  appearance  and  ways 
of  a  big  boy,  and  he  went  about  the  place  whistling  softly 
to  himself  all  day  long,  as  happy  as  a  bird  on  a  tree.  He 
was  very  lazy,  certainly,  and  required  a  good  deal  of  alter- 
nate coaxing  and  threatening  to  get  him  to  do  the  amount 
of  hard  reading  which,  he  was  fond  of  explaining,  that  prep- 
aration for  the  Bar  made  necessary.  It  was  becoming  more 
and  more  difficult  to  induce  him  to  go  up  to  town  to  eat 
what  he  called  the  "harmless  necessary"  dinners;  and  he 
didn't  care  a  bit  when  Netelka  reproached  him  with  being 
tied  to  her  apron-string. 

Not  that  Netelka  had  any  reason  to  complain  of  him. 
He  was  at  her  beck  and  call  all  day  long,  openly  worship- 
ping the  ground  she  trod  on  in  so  straightforward  and  un- 


116  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

affected  a  manner  that  Linley  and  Harrington  Moseley  only 
laughed  at  him,  and  the  only  person  who  felt  any  qualms  on 
the  subject  of  his  devotion  was  the  object  of  it  herself.  For 
Netelka,  while  professing,  like  others,  to  treat  him  like  the 
boy  he  looked,  knew  very  well  that  he  was  a  man,  and  that 
the  attentions  he  lavished  ostentatiously  upon  her  were  a 
cloak  to  feelings  which  he  wished  neither  to  probe  nor  to 
analyze.  On  the  whole,  she  hardly  knew  whether  she  had 
been  happy  or  not  during  the  last  four  months.  If  she  had 
been  the  frivolous  flirt  that  in  her  girlhood's  days  she  had 
been  considered,  she  would  have  been  entirely  happy,  for 
she  had  all  the  money  she  wanted,  a  beautiful  home,  no  end 
of  attention,  and  a  return,  in  appearance  at  least,  of  the  af- 
fection her  husband  had  shown  her  in  the  early  days  of  their 
marriage. 

It  was  this  last  fact  alone  which  enabled  her  to  leave  un- 
answered the  questions  which  would  arise  in  her  mind  as  to 
the  means  by  which  they  were  able  to  maintain  a  large  es- 
tablishment like  that  of  "  The  Firs"  without  any  apparent 
source  of  income.  To  her  timidly  expressed  questions  on 
this  point  Linley  had  made  answer,  in  the  dry  manner  she 
did  not  like,  that  the  insurance  companies  had  "  behaved 
pretty  decently,  on  the  whole."  And  then  Netelka  made  a 
mental  calculation  proving  that  to  justify  them  in  their 
present  expenditure  the  insurance  companies  must  have 
paid  them  about  five  times  the  amount  for  which  they  were 
insured. 

But  she  did  not  dare  to  say  this  to  Linley. 

She  was  sitting  beside  the  fire  in  the  morning-room  one 
afternoon  in  March,  knitting  interminable  shells  in  nasty 
fluffy  white  cotton  that  made  you  sneeze  if  you  stayed  long 
in  its  neighborhood.  Gerard  was  singing  softly  to  himself 
at  the  piano,  to  an  original  accompaniment  played  with  one 
finger,  supported  by  an  occasional  chord  with  the  left  hand. 


WHERE  DOES   THE  MONEY  COME  FROM?      117 

Presently  Netelka,  who  had  been  silent  for  some  time,  let 
her  hands  drop  into  her  lap. 

"Where's  Mr.  Moseley?"  she  asked  suddenly.  "Have 
you  seen  him  to-day?  Do  you  know  whether  he's  gone  back 
to  town?" 

"Why  trouble  your  head  about  him?"  said  Gerard.  "  I 
never  do.  Isn't  Linley  with  him?" 

She  shook  her  head.  Then,  after  another  little  pause, 
she  said : 

"  Linley's  gone  to  a  sale  where  there  was  to  be  some  old 
china.  You  know  how  frantic  he  is  about  old  china.  If 
he'd  been  Esau,  he  would  have  sold  his  birthright  for  a 
teapot,  and  been  delighted  with  his  bargain." 

"  Well,  it's  consistent  of  him  to  like  old  china,"  said  Ger- 
ard with  condescension.  "  I  always  think  he  is  like  a  Dres- 
den figure  himself — he's  so  neat,  and  so  smooth,  and  has 
such  pretty  little  white  hands  and  pretty  little  pink  nails, 
and  he's  so  afraid  of  being  touched." 

"  It's  very  rude  of  you  to  talk  like  that  about  my  hus- 
band," said  Netelka  sharply. 

"No,  it  isn't  rude.  What  harm  is  there  in  a  neat  bit  of 
description  like  that?  He's  always  saying  worse  things  of 
me.  He  used  to  say  I  looked  like  putty." 

"Well,  he  couldn't  say  that  of  you  now." 

Gerard  got  up  from  the  piano  and  stood  before  her  on 
the  hearth-rug,  contemplating  himself  in  the  glass  above  the 
mantelpiece  with  an  air  of  stern  criticism. 

"Putty!"  said  he  at  last,  meditatively.  "No,  I  don't 
think  he  could.  On  the  other  hand,  don't  you  think  that 
that  slightly  haggard  look  I  had  gave  me  a  more  intellec- 
tual appearance  than  I  have  now?" 

"Very  likely.  I  don't  think  I've  given  to  the  subject 
the  consideration  it  undoubtedly  deserves." 

"  You  are  severe,  madam,  this  afternoon.     Linley's  been 


118  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

cross,  I  suppose;  and  as  you  don't  dare  to  visit  your  resent- 
ment upon  him,  you  make  me  the  scapegoat.  That's  it, 
isn't  it?" 

Now  Gerard  had  been  observing  Mrs.  Hilliard's  face  un- 
der cover  of  his  idle  chatter,  and  he  saw  that  something  was 
wrong.  He  had  no  desire  at  all  to  force  her  confidence : 
on  the  contrary,  he  dreaded  it.  But  he  saw  it  was  coming. 

"Gerard,"  she  said  with  a  suddenness  which  would  have 
disconcerted  him  if  he  had  not  been  prepared  for  some  sen- 
sational onslaught,  "did  you  hear  a  noise  last  night?" 

Gerard  continued  to  look  at  himself  in  the  glass,  and  care- 
fully flattened  down  a  curl  of  his  wavy  hair  above  his  right 
ear. 

"Noise!    What  noise?" 

Netelka  sprang  up  excitedly. 

"  There,  you  did  hear  it,  I  know.  I  can  tell  by  the  way 
you  answer  me.  Don't  imagine  that  carefully  careless  man- 
ner deceives  me,  for  it  doesn't.  What  was  the  noise? 
Now,  what  was  it?  Was  it  Harrington  Moseley  quarrelling 
with  Linley,  or " 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard,  I  give  you  my  word  I  haven't 
the  least  idea  what  it  was.  I  did  hear  a  slight  noise,  but  I 
didn't  trouble  myself  to  inquire  what  it  was;  and  if  I  were 
you,  I  shouldn't  worry  myself  about  it  either." 

"Ah!  I  can't  take  things  like  that.     I  must  know." 

Gerard  slid  down  into  a  seat  and  shook  his  head  at  her 
with  a  pretence  of  playfulness  which  had  in  it  a  touch  of 
very  genuine  seriousness. 

"  That  is  so  like  a  woman !  No  woman  is  ever  satisfied 
just  to  be  happy  and  leave  the  rest  alone!  There's  more 
truth  in  the  story  of  'Bluebeard'  than  in  all  the  histories 
of  England  that  ever  were  written.  It  happens  every  day." 

"It's  of  no  use  to  talk  to  me  like  that!"  said  Netelka 
restlessly,  while  a  flush  rose  in  her  cheeks.  "  I'm  not  a 


WHERE  DOES  THE  MONEY  COME  FROM?      119 

child:  I  don't  ask  questions  for  the  sake  of  asking;  I  ask 
only  when  I  must  have  an  answer." 

"  But  why?  There  is  always  some  question  or  other  one 
can  make  one's  self  unhappy  by  asking,  and  more  unhappy 
still  by  getting  an  answer  to !  Ask  as  many  questions  as  you 
like  when  you  are  unhappy ;  then  it  fills  up  the  time.  When 
you  are  happy,  or  fairly  happy,  be  content  to  exist,  and 
don't  worry  yourself  until  you're  obliged  to.  That's  what 
I  do.  And  that's  why  I've  left  off  looking  intellectual,  and 
grown  plump  and  bovine." 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  each  stole  a  glance  at  the  other, 
and  their  eyes  met. 

Then  Netelka  moved  with  quick  steps  toward  the  door. 

"  How  explosive  you  are  this  afternoon !  Where  are  you 
going  to  now?" 

"  Down  to  the  shops.  I  want  some  more  cotton.  I  think 
I  can  be  back  before  tea." 

"You  can't  if  you  walk.     Have  the  carriage  round?" 

"  No,"  answered  she  decidedly,  her  face  clouding,  "  I  pre- 
fer to  walk. " 

Gerard  followed  her  to  the  door,  where  she  stood  for  a 
few  moments,  as  if  she  had  not  yet  quite  made  up  her 
mind. 

"  Why  do  you  never  use  the  brougham  now?  A  few 
weeks  ago  you  were  delighted  with  it.  It  was  the  'dearest 
little  thing  in  the  world,'  and  you  said  you  never  would 
walk  any  more.  That  was  while  it  was  the  new  toy,  I  sup- 
pose?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Netelka  coldly.  "That  was  it.  Now 
I'm  tired  of  it,  and, "she  looked  at  Gerard  quite  fiercely, 
"  I'm  going  to  have  it  sold." 

Gerard  raised  his  eyebrows  and  looked  down. 

"Of  course  it  is  no  business  of  mine,"  said  he,  looking, 
however,  disappointed  and  displeased,  "  but  I  think  it's  a 


120  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

pity.    Linley  will  only  spend  the  money  you  save  on  Wor- 
cester plates  and  Crown  Derby  mugs." 

"So  he  can,  if  he  likes,"  retorted  Netelka.     "At  any 
jt  —    j 


She  was  almost  hysterical,  and  Gerard,  very  much  dis- 
tressed himself,  took  her  hand  and  led  her  back  to  the  chair 
she  had  occupied. 

"  Go  on  with  the  fluffy  shells,"  said  he  gently.  "  I'll  go 
and  get  the  cotton.  And  when  I  get  back,  Linley  will  be 
here,  and  the  tea,  and  you'll  feel  ever  so  much  better." 

By  this  time  Netelka  had  wiped  away  two  tears  which  she 
had  caught  in  the  act  of  rolling  down  her  cheeks,  and  had 
assumed  a  staid  and  matronly  demeanor. 

"I  shan't  feel  better,"  she  said,  with  dogged  dignity, 
"  because  I'm  quite  well  now.  I  have  something  to  say 
to  you,  Gerard.  The  Collinghams  will  be  here  this 
evening  --  " 

"Oh,  bother  the  Collinghams!  At  least  —  I  mean  — 
they're  awfully  nice  people,  of  course,  and  Jem's  a  dear 
girl,  and  I  adore  her,  and  I  fully  intend  some  day  to  lay 
my  hand  and  heart  at  her  feet.  But  --  " 

"I  won't  have  you  talking  in  that  flippant  manner  about 
her,"  said  Netelka.  "Jem  is  a  very,  very  nice  girl,  and  a 
great  deal  too  good  for  you,  and  I  won't  have  you  playing 
with  her  affections.  Either  you  must  propose  to  her  and 
have  done  with  it,  or  else  you  must  --  " 

"Not  propose  to  her  and  have  done  with  it,"  suggested 
Gerard  with  great  buoyancy.  "  And  if  I  choose  that  al- 
ternative?" 

"Why,  then,"  said  Netelka  gravely,  "I  shall  think  that 
you  have  behaved  in  a  very  dishonorable  fashion,  a  fashion 
which  I  had  thought  impossible  in  you  !" 

There  was  a  pause.  Gerard  wanted  to  tell  her  that  Jem 
understood  the  situation  better  than  she  thought,  better 


WHERE  DOES  THE  MONEY  COME  FROM?      121 

than  she  did  herself,  in  fact.  But  this  would  have  led  to 
other  explanations  upon  which  he  must  not  venture.  He 
was  above  all  things  anxious  to  let  things  remain  in  all 
respects  as  they  were:  change  could  only  be  for  the 
worse. 

"It  doesn't  do  to  rush  these  things,"  he  said  at  last,  with 
an  assumption  of  a  meditative  manner.  "  I  have  heard  you 
say  twenty  times  that  marriage  should  not  be  entered  upon 
hastily.  Then  why  do  you  wish  to  make  me  transgress  your 
own  law?" 

"  Oh,  I  want  to  see  things  settled,  that's  all,"  said  Netelka, 
restlessly.  "Linley  and  I  were  talking  about  this  last 
night." 

She  did  not  add  that  Linley  was-  strongly  opposed  to  the 
idea  of  Gerard's  engagement  to  Miss  Collingham,  and  that 
it  was  a  vague  suspicion  founded  upon  this  opposition  which 
made  her  so  anxious  for  the  engagement  to  become  a  defi- 
nite thing. 

Not  unnaturally  Gerard,  ignorant  of  her  real  reason, 
found  for  himself  what  seemed  for  him  a  probable  one. 

"  If  I'm  becoming  too  much  of  a  nuisance  here — if,  with- 
out exactly  wanting  to  get  rid  of  me,  you  begin  to  feel  that 
it  is  time  I  took  myself  off — why,  then,  of  course,  it's  easy 
enough  to  settle  something.  I  haven't  yet  given  up  my 
chambers,  and " 

"  Yes,  that  was  it.  That's  what  I  meant,  of  course,"  said 
Netelka  under  her  breath. 

She  was  at  work  again  upon  one  of  the  shells,  and  her 
fingers  were  moving  quickly  but  clumsily,  her  hook  catch- 
ing in  the  thread  at  every  other  stitch,  with  lamentable  re- 
sults. Her  head  was  bent  down,  so  that  Gerard  could  not 
see  her  face ;  but  there  was  answer  enough  in  her  attitude, 
in  her  hurried  movements,  in  her  broken  voice,  to  one  part 
of  his  question. 


122  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Don't  yon  want  me  to  go,  then?" 

He  said  it  below  his  breath,  bending  to  try  to  catch  sight 
of  her  face. 

She  did  not  answer  at  once.  She  tried  to  seem  so  much 
occupied  with  her  work  that  she  had  no  spare  attention  to 
give  to  him ;  and  indeed  he  could  see  for  himself  that  she 
had  got  her  cotton  into  a  terrible  tangle. 

As  he  stood  in  the  same  attitude  beside  her,  Netelka  saw, 
without  raising  her  head,  that  the  door,  which  she  had  left 
ajar,  was  pushed  gently  open.  She  looked  up  then  and  saw 
Linley  retreating  without  noise. 

She  sprang  up  at  once. 

"  Linley !  Linley !"  she  called  out,  and  Gerard  made  way 
for  her  as  she  ran  to  the  door,  seized  her  husband  by  the 
arm,  and  brought  him  back  into  the  room.  His  face  was 
pervaded  with  a  tranquil  joy,  and  in  his  hand  he  held  a 
Dresden  group,  not  particularly  pretty,  but  unmistakably 
antique. 

"  What  were  you  trying  to  run  away  again  for?"  asked 
Netelka  abruptly,  as  soon  as  she  caught  him. 

"  To  avoid  the  very  rush  at  me  you  are  making  now,"  re- 
plied he  promptly,  as  he  gently  tried  to  shake  her  off.  "  One 
of  your  impulsive  movements  might  do  irreparable  damage. 
You  are  so  terribly  robust,  Netta !  Just  look  at  the  fingers 
— and  the  leaves — even  the  tree  is  quite  perfect,  a  most  un- 
common thing  in  a  piece  as  old  as  this.  Look  at  the 
mark." 

And  he  turned  it  upside  down  for  the  admiration  of  the 
company,  who  gazed  politely  but  with  calmness. 

Gerard,  however,  saw  that,  however  calm  she  might  man- 
age to  be  on  the  subject  of  the  china,  Netelka  was  on  the 
verge  of  an  outburst  of  emotion  of  a  more  serious  kind.  He 
glanced  at  her  for  his  orders,  and  she  gave  him  a  look  which 
he  understood  to  be  a  signal  to  go. 


WHERE  DOES  THE  MONEY  COME  FROMt      123 

"I  must  make  haste  and  get  that  cotton,  Mrs.  Hilliard," 
said  he,  "or  I  shall  keep  dinner  waiting." 

He  went  out,  and  Linley,  who  tried  to  escape,  but  could 
not,  was  left  alone  with  his  wife,  who  was  in  one  of  those 
terribly  emotional  humors  of  hers  which  he  found  so  trying 
to  his  nerves. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

AN   ANSWER  TO  THE   QUESTION. 

LINLEY  looked  quite  frightened. 

"  Well,  good-by,  dear ;  I  must  go  and  lock  this  up  before 
I  dress  for  dinner,"  said  he  as  he  tried  to  follow  Gerard  out 
of  the  room. 

But  encumbered  by  his  treasure,  he  could  not  move  fast 
enough  to  escape  from  his  wife,  who  laid  a  determined  hand 
on  his  arm,  which  forced  him  to  stop,  lest  in  the  struggle 
to  get  away  his  group  should  be  broken. 

"  Wait  one  moment,  Linley,"  she  said  in  a  choking  voice, 
"  I  want  to  speak  to  you — I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

"Well,  well,  what  is  it?  I  do  hope  you're  not  going  to 
make  a  scene,"  said  Linley  pettishly.  "  Won't  it  do 
some  other  time,  when  I  haven't  got  my  china  to  look 
after?" 

"No,"  said  Netelka,  "I  must  speak  now.  I  haven't  al- 
ways the  courage,  but  something  you  did  just  now  has 
screwed  me  up,"  and  her  eyes  flashed.  "Why  did  you  try 
to  slip  out  of  the  room  just  now?" 

Her  husband  turned  upon  her  with  an  irritable  frown : 

"  Well,  you  seemed  to  be  carrying  on  a  very  interesting 
conversation  with  Waller.  I  thought  I  might  be  in  the 
way." 

Netelka  withdrew  her  hand  quickly  from  his  arm,  rais- 
ing it  at  the  same  time  with  so  much  passion  in  her  face  that 
Linley  flinched,  as  if  he  thought  she  was  going  to  strike 
him.  She  saw  his  movement  and,  her  mood  changing  sud- 
denly, she  burst  into  tears  and  turned  away  sobbing. 


AN  ANSWER  TO   THE  QUESTION.  125 

Again  Linley  thought  he  saw  an  opportunity  of  getting 
away,  and  he  moved  hurriedly  to  the  door.  Again  she  in- 
tercepted him. 

"I  haven't  said  what  I  wanted  to  say  yet,  Linley,"  she 
wailed  plaintively,  in  a  broken  voice,  "  and  I  must  say  it. 
What  is  this  you  are  doing?  Don't  you  care  for  me  at  all 
any  longer?  How  am  I  different  from  what  I  was  when  you 
used  to  be  kind  to  me,  and  fond  of  me?  What  could  I  have 
done  to  please  you  more  than  I  have  done?  Oh,  Linley, 
tell  me !  I  am  so  miserable  I  feel  as  if  my  heart  was  break- 
ing!" 

Linley  assumed  an  expression  of  deeply  injured  inno- 
cence. 

"  Why,  what  does  all  this  mean?  What  on  earth  have  you 
got  to  complain  about?  Haven't  you  got  everything  in  the 
world  you  can  wish  for?" 

"  No,  I  haven't.  I  would  give  up  everything  I  had  to  be 
happy  with  you  again.  But  you  won't  let  me.  Linley, 
don't  you  know  the  dangers  you  put  me  in?  Can't  you  see 
that  this  Gerard " 

She  stopped,  not  liking  to  go  on.  Linley  would  not  un- 
derstand. 

"What's  the  matter  with  him?  He's  the  dearest  lad  in 
the  world,  and  I'm  sure  you  have  nothing  to  complain  of 
in  his  conduct  to  you.  You're  talking  in  a  very  silly  way, 
Netta.  I  should  never  insult  you  by  doubting  your  discre- 
tion, or  the  influence  for  good  you  have  most  certainly  ex- 
ercised on  this  young  fellow." 

Netelka  shivered  with  disgust.  As  he  made  this  some- 
what canting  speech,  she  felt  that  she  hated  her  husband. 
She  was  thrown  back  upon  herself,  and  did  not  know  how 
next  to  attack  him. 

Before  she  had  recovered  herself,  the  man-servant  en- 
tered the  room  with  a  note  on  a  salver. 


126  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Netelka,  to  whom  the  note  was  addressed,  opened  it  and 
read  the  following  words: 

"  Mrs.  Collingham  regrets  that  she  cannot  fulfil  her  engagement 
to  dine  with  Mrs.  Billiard  this  evening,  as  after  the  disturbance  out- 
side 'The  Firs'  last  night,  Mrs.  Collingham  feels  that  it  is  not  a 
house  to  which  she  would  care  to  go  with  her  daughter.  " 

Netelka,  who  had  taken  care  to  remain  near  the  door, 
handed  the  note  to  her  husband.  Her  hand  shook  as  she 
did  so.  He  snatched  it  angrily,  ran  his  eyes  over  the  lines, 
then  crumpled  the  paper  up,  and  going  to  the  fireplace 
inserted  the  ball  of  paper  carefully  between  the  bars  and 
watched  it  burn. 

He  was  not  at  all  put  out,  however. 

"  Silly  old  canary !"  murmured  he  softly.  "  Why  doesn't 
she  go  to  bed  at  proper  hours,  as  all  sensible  women  do,  and 
then  she  wouldn't  be  disturbed!" 

"  What  was  the  cause  of  this  disturbance?"  asked  Ne- 
telka hoarsely. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  nothing  at  all.  Moseley  brought  a  friend 
down,  a  young  fellow  who  took  too  much  champagne  and 
kicked  up  an  awful  row  as  he  went  out.  I  was  afraid  he 
would  wake  you."  And  Linley  looked  at  her  out  of  the  cor- 
ners of  his  eyes  with  a  peculiar  expression,  watchful,  curi- 
ous, and  mistrustful.  "  However,  thank  heaven,  you've  got 
some  brains  in  your  head,  and  are  not  scared  so  easily  as  our 
vivacious  friend  next  door." 

There  was  dead  silence  for  a  minute.  Linley,  seeing  that 
she  was  bent  upon  detaining  him  yet  a  little  longer,  made 
the  best  of  it,  sitting  down  and  hugging  his  china  group. 
His  wife  was  looking  at  him  steadily. 

"I  did  hear  a  noise,"  she  said  at  last,  in  a  whisper. 
"  But — but  it  sounded  like  half  a  dozen  voices  at  least,  and 
I  heard  some  one  say  that — he — had — been — cheated/" 


AN  ANSWER  TO  THE  QUESTION.  12? 

"Oh,  stuff!"  said  Linley  gently.  "Keally,  Netta,  if 
you're  not  worse  than  old  Mother  Collingham,  you're  just  as 
bad !  Now,  my  dear,  I  don't  want  to  quarrel  with  you,  but  I 
can't  stand  this  sort  of  thing.  Pray,  did  you  hear  any 
more?" 

"N-n-n-no,"  said  Netelka,  trembling. 

Linley  got  up,  and  this  time  she  let  him  go  to  the  door 
•without  further  molestation.  She  thought  he  seemed  re- 
lieved by  her  answer.  He  gave  her  a  frosty  little  kiss,  and 
spoke  more  cheerfully. 

"Now  don't  find  any  more  mares'-nests,  and  don't  take 
silly  fancies  into  your  head,  or  I  shall  begin  really  to  think 
that  I  don't  care  for  you  so  much  as  I  used  to.  Kiss  me, 
dear." 

Netelka  obeyed  without  warmth,  and  Linley  trotted  off 
quite  happily,  removing  a  little  dust  from  the  fingers  of  one 
of  his  china  shepherdesses  as  he  went. 

Mr.  Moseley  was  in  the  drawing-room  when  Netelka  en- 
tered the  room  dressed  for  dinner ;  and  she  noticed  that  for 
the  first  time  he  was  rather  curt  in  his  manner  to  her. 
When  she  asked  him  point-blank  whether  he  had  not  some 
noisy  visitors  on  the  previous  evening  without  her  knowl- 
edge, he  frowned,  and  said  shortly  that  he  must  refer  her 
to  her  husband  for  any  information  she  wanted  about  the 
guests  in  the  house. 

Netelka  turned  away  from  him  without  further  remark, 
and  she  saw  in  the  glass  that  he  looked  at  her  with  suspi- 
cion and  anxiety. 

When  Netelka  retired  to  her  room  that  night,  she  had 
determined  to  satisfy  herself  of  the  truth  or  falsehood  of 
certain  suspicions  she  had  formed  without  any  aid  but  that 
of  her  own  eyes  and  ears.  So  she  put  on  her  dressing-gown 
and  sat  by  the  fire  until  she  saw  by  her  watch  that  it  was 
two  o'clock.  Then  she  opened  her  door  very  softly  and 


128  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

stole  along  the  corridors  of  the  old  house,  in  the  direction 
of  Mr.  Moseley's  rooms. 

The  building  was  a  rambling  structure,  loudly  praised 
by  visitors  for  its  picturesqueness,  and  as  loudly  condemned 
by  the  inmates  for  its  draughtiness  and  inconvenience.  The 
two  rooms  which  had  been  set  apart  for  Mr.  Moseley's  use 
were  in  one  of  those  substantial  additions  to  the  original 
dwelling  which  Netelka  called  the  "afterthoughts."  They 
were  connected  with  the  main  building  by  a  long  room 
which,  being  a  thoroughfare  from  one  part  of  the  house  to 
the  other,  had  fallen  out  of  use  except  for  that  purpose. 
All  these  rooms,  therefore,  were  now  kept  locked  up,  and 
no  one  ever  visited  them  in  Mr.  Moseley's  absence  except 
the  head  housemaid,  an  elderly  person  who  had  been  in  Mr. 
Moseley's  service  before,  who  kept  them  dusted  and  in  order. 

To  this  locked  door,  therefore,  Netelka  now  came.  She 
tried  the  handle ;  then  she  knocked.  No  one  came.  But 
she  heard  the  hum  of  voices,  and  an  occasional  burst  of 
laughter.  She  was  not  going  to  play  eavesdropper ;  she 
knocked  again.  Finally  she  rattled  the  handle  of  the  door. 
She  now  felt  certain  that  there  was  a  gambling  party  going 
on,  and  she  meant  to  break  it  up  if  she  could,  or  at  least 
to  disturb  the  gamblers.  Whatever  came  of  her  interfer- 
ence, she  was  not  going  to  allow  men  to  be  cheated  under  a 
roof  which  was  nominally  hers.  But  this  locked  door  threat- 
ened to  put  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  the  carrying  out  of 
her  plan. 

At  last  she  gave  up  the  attack  on  this  side  as  hopeless,  and 
remembering  that  there  was  a  misused  bedroom  from  which 
a  view  could  be  obtained  of  the  windows  of  all  three  of  the 
locked-up  rooms,  she  turned  aside  and  opened  the  door  of 
a  room  on  her  right  hand. 

The  room  was  small,  and  smelt  musty  from  long  disuse. 
Netelka  went  to  the  window,  and  saw  the  confirmation  of 


AN  ANSWER  TO  THE  QUESTION.  129 

her  fears.  The  blinds  of  the  largest  of  the  three  rooms  were 
drawn  down,  but  it  was  evidently  well-lighted,  and  the  shad- 
ows thrown  upon  the  blinds  showed  that  the  room  must  be 
full  of  people.  It  was  worse  than  she  had  feared.  She 
threw  up  the  window-sash :  below  her  was  an  outbuilding, 
the  roof  of  which  would  form  a  dangerous  but  not  wholly 
impracticable  footway  between  the  room  she  was  in  and 
the  long  passage-room  in  which  the  gambling  was  going  on. 

With  some  difficulty  she  got  out  upon  the  leads.  They 
were  wet  and  slippery  from  recent  rain,  and  it  was  only  by 
the  utmost  caution  that  she  could  keep  herself  from  sliding 
from  them  to  the  ground  below  as  she  crawled  along. 

She  had  got  under  the  window  she  wished  to  reach,  and 
was  stretching  up  her  hand  to  grasp  the  sill,  when  she  heard 
a  sound  behind  her,  and  saw  that  the  window  by  which  she 
had  got  out  had  been  shut  by  some  one.  It  was  at  the  same 
moment  that  she  discovered  that  she  could  not  reach  the 
ledge  of  the  window  above  her. 
9 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A  BECOGNTTION". 

IT  was  a  moment  of  extreme  danger  for  Netelka  when, 
her  feet  npon  the  slippery  leads  and  her  hands  trying  in 
vain  to  get  a  strong  grip  on  the  window-ledge  above  her, 
she  heard  the  window  through  which  she  had  come  close. 

Her  heart  seemed  to  leap  up  within  her ;  her  brain  reeled. 
What  had  she  done  for  her  husband  to  treat  her  like  this? 
She  could  not  doubt  that  it  was  Linley  who  had  shut  the 
window;  indeed,  a  minute  later  she  heard  his  voice  and 
that  of  the  Jew  in  altercation  in  the  room  above  her. 

The  fact  was  that  Moseley  and  Linley  had  both  heard 
her  knocking  at  the  door,  and  that  when  she  retreated  her 
husband  had  followed  her  and  watched  her  daring  descent 
upon  the  roof  outside.  To  do  the  Jew  justice,  he  had  been 
rather  disgusted  when  Linley  pulled  down  the  sash. 

"No,"  he  had  said,  "leave  the  poor  little  woman  alone. 
She  can't  get  in  at  the  other  window,  as  she  wants  to  do. 
Leave  the  way  open  for  her  to  come  back.  She's  a  mis- 
chievous little  puss,  but  she's  done  us  a  good  turn,  after 
all,  with  Waller,  and  besides — hang  it,  man,  she's  your 
wife  after  all." 

But  Linley  was  looking  livid,  with  a  cold  anger  quite 
unlike  the  Jew's  more  human  impatience. 

"  Let  her  break  her  neck !"  said  he  between  his  closed 
teeth.  "  I'm  sick  of  the  long  faces  she  pulls  at  me  now, 
and  of  her  prattle  about  devotion  and  duty.  H'm !  pretty 
devotion !  It  will  land  us  all  in  prison  some  day,  if  we 
don't  look  out!" 


A  RECOGNITION.  131 

In  the  mean  time  a  faint  cry  from  the  subject  of  their 
discussion  made  it  evident  that  there  was  no  time  to  be 
lost  in  making  up  their  minds  what  to  do.  The  Jew  broke 
away  from  Linley,  and  re-entering  the  long  passage-room, 
threw  open  the  window  and  looked  out  in  assumed  aston- 
ishment. 

"Good  gracious!"  he  exclaimed.  "  Mrs.  Hilliard !  How 
did  you  get  out  there?" 

She  made  no  answer:  she  was  indeed  growing  faint  and 
giddy,  and  help  had  only  come  just  in  time  to  save  her 
from  a  dangerous  fall.  She  heard,  without  quite  under- 
standing, a  few  rapidly  uttered  sentences  in  voices  which 
seemed  familiar  to  her.  Then  she  felt  herself  drawn  slowly 
up,  being  able  to  offer  only  a  little  assistance  to  her  res- 
cuers. And  when  she  came  entirely  to  herself,  she  discov- 
ered that  she  was  in  the  passage-room,  and  that  the  face 
nearest  to  her  was  that  of  Arthur  Sainsbury. 

She  had  not  seen  either  Arthur  or  Sam  Teale  for  some 
time,  and  she  was  at  once  struck  by  a  change  in  Arthur's 
appearance.  He  looked  older,  and  he  looked  more  dissi- 
pated than  he  had  done. 

Netelka  sprang  up,  and  putting  her  hand  to  her  head, 
remembered  the  object  she  had  had  in  making  her  rash 
expedition.  The  door  of  the  inner  room  was  ajar:  she  ran 
across  to  it,  and  threw  it  open  before  any  one  could  stop  her. 
The  sight  which  met  her  eyes  was  so  surprising  that  for  a 
few  seconds  she  stood  in  the  doorway  motionless  and  dumb. 

Instead  of  the  long  card-table,  surrounded  by  a  party  of 
excited  gamblers,  she  saw  about  a  dozen  gentlemen  seated 
about  the  room  in  the  easy  attitudes  of  the  smoking-room, 
each  with  his  cigar,  his  pipe,  or  his  cigarette;  three  or 
four  small  tables,  bearing  all  the  paraphernalia  necessary 
for  the  concoction  of  any  drink  they  might  fancy.  Nothing 
like  the  big  card-table  she  had  imagined  was  to  be  seen. 


132  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Those  members  of  the  party  who  were  near  enough  to 
the  door  to  see  her  rose,  as  if  in  surprise.  That  broke  the 
spell.  For  some  of  them  were  bad  actors,  and  her  quick 
feminine  instinct  then  revealed  to  her  that  the  little  scene 
before  her  had  been  carefully  prepared  for  her  benefit. 

There  was  nothing  for  her  to  do,  however,  but  to  retreat 
with  a  muttered  apology.  As  she  turned,  she  met  the 
Jew's  black  eyes  fixed  upon  her  with  amusement  and 
mockery,  while  behind  him  Linley  stood,  with  an  expres- 
sion upon  his  face  which  chilled  and  frightened  her. 

Harrington  Moseley  was  disposed  to  be  jocular. 

"I  suppose,  my  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard,  that  you  thought 
we  were  up  to  some  mischief,  and  wanted  to  keep  an  eye 
upon  us.  But  it's  lucky  for  you  that  we  kept  an  eye  upon 
you,  isn't  it?" 

"  I  quite  appreciate  your  kindness,  and  I  thank  you," 
said  Netelka  rather  ungratefully  as  she  bowed  to  him  and 
left  the  room. 

She  did  not  see  Linley  again  until  the  following  morning 
at  breakfast  time,  when  his  manner  was  no  more  genial 
than  on  the  previous  night.  Netelka  had  had  time  to 
think  over  what  she  had  seen  and  heard,  and  she  resolved 
to  make  another  attempt  to  win  from  Lady  Kenslow  some 
more  palatable  advice  than  she  had  received  on  the  last 
occasion.  Linley  approved  her  proposal  to  go  up  to  town 
with  so  much  heartiness  that  Netelka  thought  he  would 
like  to  get  rid  of  her  by  allowing  her  to  remain  with  her 
aunt. 

On  leaving  the  house,  she  had  to  pass  "  Maisonette"  on 
her  way  to  the  station.  Mrs.  Collingham's  note  had  only 
distressed  her,  because  it  confirmed  her  own  suspicions,  and 
because  it  put  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  Gerard's  meetings 
with  Jem :  she  did  not  care  enough  for  the  lady  herself  to 
be  troubled  by  any  airs  she  might  choose  to  give  herself, 


A  RECOGNITION.  133 

or  by  any  view  of  "  The  Firs"  that  she  might  choose  to 
take. 

Netelka,  therefore,  scarcely  glanced  at  the  fantastic  win- 
dows of  the  little  house  as  she  went  by,  and  she  thought 
it  better  to  take  no  notice  of  a  loud  rapping  at  one  of  the 
windows  which  she  knew  must  be  the  work  of  Jem. 

Before  she  reached  the  station,  however,  she  became 
aware  that  she  was  being  pursued  by  a  flying  figure.  Hav- 
ing no  wish  to  embroil  Jem  with  her  stepmother,  and 
being,  moreover,  late  for  her  own  train,  Netelka  still  paid 
no  heed  to  the  pursuer,  but  presently  quickened  her  own 
pace  as  she  saw  that  the  signals  were  down  for  the  Water- 
loo train.  She  just  managed  to  jump,  panting,  into  the 
nearest  first-class  compartment,  when  she  heard  a  loud 
girlish  voice  cry  out,  or  rather  scream : 

"Wait!  oh,  do  wait!" 

"Come  along,  Miss!     Time's  up!"  cried  the  guard. 

The  next  moment  Jem,  gloveless,  breathless,  and  all  but 
hatless,  jumped  into  Netelka's  compartment  and  sprawled, 
gasping,  on  the  opposite  seat. 

"I — I — I  know  you're  disgusted!  I  know  you  don't 
want  to  see  me — or  any  of  us  any  more,"  she  panted  out, 
in  jerks,  as  the  train  moved  on.  "  But  I  couldn't  help  it. 
I  felt  I  must  see  you,  and  so  here  I've  come.  And  I 
haven't  even  paid  my  fare,  and  I've  only  got  a  shilling!" 

She  looked  pathetically  pretty,  with  her  blue  eyes  full 
of  tears,  her  fair  hair  shaken  loose  about  her  face,  and  a 
wistful  expression  about  her  little  open  mouth. 

"  Never  mind  the  fare,"  said  Netelka,  smiling.  "  Do  you 
mean  that  you  only  got  in  to  see  me?" 

"Yes,  that's  it,"  exclaimed  Jem.  "I've  thought  of 
such  a  lot  of  things,  things  I  felt  I  must  say  to  you.  And 
now  I've  forgotten  them  all,  even  if  I  dared  to  say  them." 

Netelka  was  moved  by  the  girl's  earnestness,  and  the 


134  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

tears  came  into  her  own  eyes.  Jem  could  not  see  this, 
however,  for  her  eyes  were  cast  down  by  this  time,  and 
she  was  struggling  with  the  shyness  to  which  she  was  so 
painfully  subject. 

"  Of  course,  of  course,  you'll  laugh  at  me,  if  you  don't 
think  me  awfully  impertinent,"  said  Jem,  turning  scarlet 
as  she  approached  the  delicate  matter.  "  But  when  mamma 
wrote  that  note,  I  felt  as  if  I  must  slap  her." 

"  Well,  it  was  very  good  of  you  to  feel  like  that,"  said 
Netelka,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  no,  it  wasn't.  It  wasn't  good  at  all.  It  was  just 
natural,  that's  all." 

"Well,  it's  natural  in  you  to  be  good." 

Jem  took  no  notice  of  this  remark,  which  she  took  to 
be  a  mere  frivolous  compliment  unworthy  of  attention. 
,  "You  didn't  mind  it!     Say  you  didn't  mind!"  she  cried 
earnestly,  seizing  Netelka's  hand,  and   looking  intently 
into  her  face. 

"  I  can  truly  say  that  I  did  not,"  answered  Netelka, 
"except  that  I  was  afraid  we  might  see  no  more  of 
you." 

"  Did  you  mind  that,  really?  At  any  rate,  you  can't  have 
minded  it  as  much  as  I  did.  I  was  frantic  about  it.  But 
you  needn't  mind  mamma:  she's  so  impulsive;  she'll  do  the 
craziest  things  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  things  she 
could  tear  her  hair  for  afterward." 

"My  dear,  she  was  quite  right." 

"No,  she  wasn't.  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon;  of  course  I 
know  it's  rude  to  contradict,  but  you  mustn't  mind  the 
things  I  do  and  say,  because  I'm  a  wild  Indian  as  far  as 
proper  behavior  is  concerned.  But  how  can  it  be  right  to 
throw  over  your  friends  when  anything  unpleasant  happens 
to  them?" 

Netelka  looked  at  her,  rather  startled.     Jem  took  the 


A  RECOGNITION.  135 

seat  beside  her  and  gently  caressed  one  of  the  lady's  deli- 
cately gloved  hands  in  her  own  uncovered  fingers. 

"  Oh,  we  know  a  good  deal  more  about  it  than  you  do, 
I'm  sure,"  said  Jem,  mysteriously.  "  You  see  the  cabs  and 
the  broughams  stand  on  our  side,  not  yours.  You  couldn't 
see  them  for  the  trees." 

"  Cabs  and  broughams !" 

"  Yes.  Every  night.  "We  have  known  for  a  long  time 
that  it  was  just  the  same  sort  of  people  coming  down  that 
used  to  come  down  before.  Papa  says  it's  a  club,  and  that 
very  rich  men  and  very  well-known  men  come.  And  mam- 
ma has  known  all  about  it,  and  has  been  quite  ready  to  shut 
her  eyes,  on  the  chance  of  meeting  some  of  the  great  people, 
as  we  met  young  Lord  Orpington  at  your  house  the  other 
night.  Only  when  it  came  to  the  disturbance  there  was 
last  night,  she  took  it  into  her  head  that  she  ought  cer- 
tainly to  stand  upon  her  dignity.  She'll  be  all  right  again 
in  a  day  or  two — in  fact,  she's  coming  round  now,  and 
she'll  pretend  to  have  forgotten  all  about  her  note,  you  see 
if  she  doesn't!" 

Now  Netelka,  although  she  had  not  known  all  this  before, 
was  not  surprised  to  hear  it.  She  knew  that  a  great  many 
of  the  men  whom  Harrington  Moseley  brought  down  to 
dine  at  "  The  Firs,"  and  whom  he  called  his  "  swell  friends," 
belonged  to  a  class  which  does  not  choose  its  intimates  from 
men  like  the  Jew,  although  it  profits  by  their  financial  as- 
sistance. And  she  had  often  asked  herself,  when  these 
gentlemen  bade  her  good-night,  whether  they  were  really 
going  to  catch  the  last  train  to  town  as  they  pretended,  or 
whether  they  were  going  to  join  other  "  friends"  of  Har- 
rington Moseley  upstairs. 

She  had  remained  silent  for  some  moments,  when  Jem's 
voice,  speaking  very  softly,  roused  her  from  the  abstraction 
into  which  she  had  fallen. 


136  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Why  do  you  look  like  that,  if  you  don't  mind?" 

"I  do  mind;  I  mind  very  much — chiefly  on  your  ac- 
count." 

"Mine?" 

"Yes,  yours  and  Gerard's.  You  won't  be  able  to  see  so 
much  of  each  other." 

Jem  laughed  rather  mockingly. 

"He  won't  care,  as  long  as  he  can  see — some  one  else!" 
she  said  rather  timidly. 

"Do  you  mean  me,  child?" 

"  Of  course  I  do.  It's  plain  enough  that  he  doesn't 
trouble  his  head  much  about  anybody  else.  It's  quite 
natural,  and  I  don't  mind,  because  it's  you,  and  you  won't 
do  him  any  harm,  only  good.  You  see,  you  can  keep  him 
away  from  gambling  and  the  things  that  hurt  him:  I 
couldn't.  I'm  not  jealous." 

"  You  mean  that  you've  got  tired  of  him  in  your  turn?" 

"No.  I  don't  mean  that  at  all.  I  like  him  just  as 
much  as  ever.  And  if  you  were  a  wicked  coquette,  I 
should  be  jealous.  But  you  are  not,  and  I  love  you,  and 
those  are  reasons  enough  for  me." 

Netelka  kissed  her. 

"You're  an  odd  girl,"  she  said,  "and  I  don't  quite 
know  what  to  make  of  you.  And  now  what  am  I  to  do 
with  you  when  we  get  to  Waterloo?  Shall  I  send  you 
back,  or  what?" 

"  I  wish  you  could  take  me  on  with  you  wherever  you're 
going,"  said  Jem  wistfully.  "Mamma  is  very  cross  to-day, 
and  I  should  be  so  glad  to  be  out  of  the  way  for  a  little  while." 

"But  what  would  she  say  if  she  knew  that  you  were 
with  me?" 

Jem  chuckled. 

"  She'd  be  delighted.  It  would  bridge  over  the  way  to 
making  it  up  after  her  note." 


A  RECOGNITION.  137 

But  Netelka  thought  this  was  too  optimistic  a  view  to 
take,  and  when  they  got  out  at  Waterloo  she  was  still  won- 
dering what  argument  she  could  use  to  induce  Jem  to  re- 
turn home.  Jem  was  at  that  period  of  life  when  irresolu- 
tion alternates  with  fits  of  perverse  obstinacy,  and  it  was 
one  of  the  obstinate  fits  that  was  on  her  now. 

Netelka  hesitated  to  take  the  girl  on  with  her  to  her 
Aunt  Mary's,  since  Lady  Kenslow's  susceptibilities  would 
certainly  be  offended  by  the  introduction  to  her  of  a  young 
lady  with  untidy  hair,  a  shabby  jacket,  and  no  gloves. 
Some  of  these  defects  might  be  set  right,  certainly.  But 
there  would  remain  enough  of  the  untamed  savage  about 
poor  Jem's  manner  and  appearance  to  produce  a  bad  im- 
pression upon  the  calm-mannered,  carefully  dressed  woman 
of  the  world.  To  think  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  Netelka 
took  the  young  girl  to  the  book-stall,  and  considered  the 
situation  while  her  eyes  ran  mechanically  over  the  covers 
of  the  current  literature  of  the  day. 

A  hissing  whisper  from  Jem  made  her  start. 

"That  gentleman  over  there  knows  you,  I'm  sure!" 
murmured  Jem. 

Netelka  was  conscious  that  she  blushed,  and  that  her 
breath  came  more  quickly.  The  trial  flashed  into  her  mind, 
and  without  looking  at  the  man  indicated  by  Jem,  she 
walked  away  in  the  opposite  direction.  Jem  was  surprised. 

"You  didn't  look  at  him!"  said  she,  as  she  came  up 
with  Netelka.  "  Why  do  you  walk  away  like  that?  I'm 
sure  he  isn't  a  stranger;  he  must  be  some  old  friend.  And 
he  has  a  nice  face,"  she  added,  ingenuously. 

"Oh,"  said  Netelka,  with  an  affectation  of  indifference, 
"  I  don't  want  to  be  delayed  now  by  talking  to  any  old 
friends.  I— I " 

She  stammered,  and  stopped  in  her  speech,  and  the  color 
suddenly  left  her  face,  even  to  her  lips. 


138  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Netelka !    Netelka !     Ah,  I  was  sure  it  was  you !" 
Instinctively  Jem  fell  back  a  step  as  the  stranger  came 
up,  for  there  was  something  in  his  voice  which  told  her 
that  this  was  not  an  ordinary  meeting  between  two  old  ac- 
quaintances. 

"Hugh!"  faltered  Netelka.  And  there  came  up  from 
her  heart  to  her  lips  a  very  faint  cry,  only  just  loud 
enough  to  reach  the  ears  of  the  man  himself  and  Jem,  but 
plaintive  enough  to  bring  tears  to  the  young  girl's  eyes 
by  its  note  of  bitter  pain. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

LOVE-SECRETS. 

JEM  retreated  discreetly  to  the  book-stall,  and  read  the 
title  of  all  the  papers,  while  at  the  same  time  she  took  in, 
by  furtive  glances,  every  detail  of  the  appearance  of  the 
unknown  gentleman  who  called  Mrs.  Hilliard  by  her  Chris- 
tian name,  and  whom  she  called  by  his. 

He  was  a  tall,  broad-shouldered  man,  with  a  bronzed 
and  ruddy  complexion,  fair  hair  touched  with  gray  about 
the  ears,  and  mild  blue  eyes.  He  was  about  five-and- 
thirty  years  of  age,  but  looked  older,  and  he  wore  the  un- 
definable  and  unmistakable  look  of  one  who  has  been 
"  roughing  it"  for  a  long  period. 

"  This  is  lucky,"  said  he,  with  the  slight  hesitation  of  one 
who  is  not  sure  that  he  has  got  the  word.  "  I  thought — 
I  don't  know  why  I  thought  so,  but  I  did  think — that  you 
were  up  in  the  North  still.  You  are  married,  are  you  not?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Netelka  briefly;  "didn't  you  know?" 

She  turned  her  face  quickly  up  towards  his,  full  of 
anxiety. 

"  Well,  yes,  I  did  know  that.  But  I  want  to  know  a  lot 
more.  Are  you  happy?" 

He  looked  searchingly  down  into  her  face,  and  Netelka 
blushed  uneasily  as  she  felt  that  he  read  in  her  eyes  a  truer 
answer  than  her  lips  gave  him. 

"  Happy !  Of  course  I  am.  Did  you  ever  know  me  to 
be  anything  else?" 

"In  the  old  days — no,"  said  Hugh  Thorndyke,  senti- 
mentally. 


140  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

He  had  been  in  love  with  Netelka  in  those  old  days,  but 
had  gone  away  without  asking  her  to  be  his  wife  because 
he  had  believed  her  to  be  a  coquette,  who  flirted  with  him  as 
she  did  with  half  a  dozen  others,  without  heart  enough  to 
care  for  any  one  of  them.  He  had  told  himself  often  enough 
since  then  that  he  had  been  too  hasty ;  but  this  was  when 
there  were  thousands  of  miles  between  them.  And  before 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  whether  he  should  write  to  her 
or  not,  the  brief  mention  of  her  marriage  had  reached 
him. 

"  Well,  the  new  days  are  the  same  as  the  old  as  far  as  I 
am  concerned,"  said  Netelka,  with  an  assumption  of  flip- 
pancy. "  I  am  happy,  because  I  never  intend  to  be  any- 
thing else.  And  you — how  are  you  getting  on?  Are  you 
married  too?  Have  you  left  the  Bush,  or  the  Colorado 
mines,  or  wherever  it  was  you  were,  for  good?  I  really 
mustn't  stop  to  ask  questions  now,  I  am  in  such  a  hurry; 
but  still  I  should  like  to  hear  as  much  as  you  can  tell  me 
about  yourself  in  about  twelve  words." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Hugh  rather  dryly.  "I  came  back 
from  Basutoland  last  week,  and  I  am  not  married,  and  I 
think  that's  all  you  wanted  to  know." 

She  held  out  her  hand. 

"It  isn't  half  what  I  wanted  to  know,"  she  said,  "but 
it's  all  I  have  time  to  hear.  I  hope  we  shall  meet  again." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Hugh  again,  evidently  both  hurt 
and  offended.  "  I  dare  say  we  shall.  You  live  in  London?" 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Netelka,  quickly,  "  I  live  a  long  way  off. 
But  of  course  everybody  is  always  coming  to  London;  it's 
the  rendezvous  of  the  world,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so." 

He  had  let  her  go ;  when  suddenly,  as  she  rejoined  Jem, 
his  longing  to  know  something  more  of  the  fortunes  of  the 
woman  he  still  loved  made  him  swallow  his  offended  pride 


LOVE-SECRETS.  141 

and  run  after  her.  The  offended  pride  was,  however,  still 
to  be  noticed  in  his  tone. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  Am  I  too  presumptuous,  or  may 
I  know  the  name  of  your  husband — yours,  you  know?  I 
never  heard  it." 

She  was  trembling  violently,  and  she  answered  in  such  a 
breathless  sort  of  way  that  Jem  glanced  at  her  with  eyes 
full  of  a  furtive  inquiry. 

"  Oh,  of  course,  I  forgot  to  tell  you.  Hilliard,  my  name 
is  Hilliard  now.  What  shall  I  do  with  you,  dear?"  she 
went  on,  to  Jem. 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  do  anything  with  me.  If  you  can't 
take  me  with  you,  I  can  just  get  into  the  next  train  and 
go  back  home." 

"  But  you'll  get  lost,  I  know  you  will.  You  say  you  al- 
ways do." 

Hugh  Thorndyke,  standing  a  few  steps  away,  came  for- 
ward. 

"  Let  me  relieve  you  of  your  responsibility  and  see  this 
young  lady  to  her  train,"  said  he. 

Jem  showed  so  much  willingness  that  Netelka,  much 
against  her  will,  had  to  introduce  them.  She  did  not 
want  Hugh  to  know  where  she  lived.  So  she  dispatched 
Hugh  to  the  booking-office  to  get  Miss  Collingham  a  ticket, 
and  seized  the  opportunity  of  saying  to  Jem : 

"  Don't  tell  Mr.  Thorndyke  where  I  live,  or  anything 
about  me.  I  don't  want  him  to  come  down,  as  I'm  sure 
he  and  my  husband  wouldn't  get  on  well  together." 

Jem  took  in  this  injunction  with  the  alert  interest  of 
young  girl  who  finds  herself  upon  the  trail  of  a  romance. 

So  Netelka  got  into  a  hansom,  leaving  Jem  and  Hugh 
Thorndyke  together.  He  was  very  much  attracted  by  the 
pretty,  shy  face  of  the  young  girl,  and  he  was  quite  glad 
to  find  that  she  had  just  missed  her  train  and  would  have 


142  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

nearly  an  hour  to  wait  for  the  next.  Jem,  on  the  other 
hand,  felt  nothing  but  embarrassment,  being  sure  that  this 
distinguished-looking  man  with  the  quiet  manners  must 
think  her  a  great  bore. 

"Please  don't  wait,"  said  she  in  tones  of  distress  as  he 
walked  up  and  down  beside  her;  "I  don't  at  all  mind 
being  by  myself  now  I  know  which  platform  to  go  to." 

"  If  that  means  that  I'm  a  nuisance,  of  course  I'll  take 
myself  off  without  delay,"  said  Hugh,  gravely.  "But  if  it 
doesn't " 

"Indeed  it  doesn't,"  interpolated  Jem,  with  great  fervor. 

"  Then  I'd  very  much  rather  stay,  if  I  may." 

"  Of  course  you  may  stay  if  you  like,  and  I  shall  be  very 
glad.  But  I  don't  like  to  take  up  your  time — a  man's 
time  is  so  much  more  valuable  than  a  girl's — and  besides, 
I  have  no  conversation.  Everybody  says  so,  and  I  always 
bore  people." 

"Well,  wouldn't  it  be  a  feather  in  my  cap,  then,  if  I 
could  manage  to  pass  a  full  three-quarters  of  an  hour  with 
you  without  being  bored!  I  should  really  like  to  try. 
And  in  the  mean  time  you  might  tell  me  where  you  got 
the  preposterously  extravagant  notion  that  a  man's  time  is 
more  valuable  than  a  girl's." 

"  Oh,  well,  it  ought  to  be ;  that's  what  I  meant.  There 
are  so  many  more  things  a  man  can  do." 

"  Many  more  ways  of  getting  into  mischief,  perhaps?" 

"Yes,  I  think  that,  too,"  said  Jem. 

"  And  you  think  time  is  valuable  that  is  spent  in  getting 
into  mischief?" 

"  To  the  people  who  enjoy  that  occupation,  I  suppose  it 
is,"  said  Jem. 

And  then,  unconsciously,  she  sighed. 

"  This  question  is  getting  too  abstruse  for  discussion  oa 
the  draughty  platform  of  a  railway  station,"  said  he,  dida.Q- 


LOVE-SECRETS.  143 

tically.  "  What  do  yon  say  to  our  walking  across  the  bridge 
into  the  Strand  and  finding  an  'Aerated,'  where  we  could 
fortify  ourselves  for  argument  with  coffee  and  cake?" 

Jem's  face  lighted  up. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  she. 

Then  her  face  clouded. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  she. 

"  Two  flatly  contradictory  answers  in  one  breath !  It  is 
a  little  confusing." 

"I  meant,"  said  Jem,  slowly  and  deliberately,  "the  first 
answer  to  express  my  feeling  on  the  matter,  and  my  second 
to  express  my  resolution." 

"  I  see.  I  am  not  the  sort  of  person  you  would  like  to  be 
seen  eating  cake  with!" 

Jem  laughed  derisively. 

"That's  it,  of  course.  A  creature  without  any 
gloves !" 

And  she  held  out  the  bare  hands  she  had  been  trying  to 
hide. 

"I  should  have  thought,"  pursued  he,  "that  Mrs.  Hil- 
liard's  introduction  would  have  sufficed  for  my  moral  char- 
acter. But  I  think  I  understand."  And  he  sighed  with 
unnecessary  heaviness.  "  It  was  because  I  suggested  coffee ! 
There  is  a  wicked,  free-and-easy,  cigarette  and  cognac 
sort  of  a  flavor  about  the  word  coffee.  If  I  had  said  'cocoa 
and  a  bun, '  you  would  have  gone  with  me  to  the  end  of — 
Oxford  Street!" 

Jem  was  laughing  hilariously. 

"It  isn't  that,"  said  she.  "But  for  one  thing,  I'm  not 
fit  to  be  seen ;  for  another,  at  home  they'll  wonder  what's 
become  of  me  if  I  miss  this  train;  and  for  a  third,  you 
will — I  mean  you  would  find  me  very  stupid." 

As  she  spoke  the  words  referring  to  her  personal  appear- 
ance, Jem  put  up  her  hand  in  a  frantic  and  fruitless  en- 


144  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

deavor  to  put  her  hair  tidy  and  her  hat  straight  with  one 
large,  sweeping  movement. 

"If  you  would  only  allow  me,"  said  Hugh,  very  meekly, 
"  I  really  could  do  more  good  than  you.  I  have  had  sis- 
ters, and  I  have  made  an  exhaustive  study  of  the  nature 
and  uses  of  hairpins.  There's  nobody  inside  the  waiting- 
room  but  an  old  gentleman  with  a  newspaper.  If  you 
will  step  inside  and  take  your  hat  off,  I  assure  you  I  shall 
perform  wonders." 

Jem  giggled,  hesitated,  consented.  She  took  off  her 
hat,  exhibiting  an  untidy  head  of  beautiful  fair  hair.  Of 
course  she  said,  "There,  thank  you;  that'll  do  beauti- 
fully!" before  her  coiffeur  had  finished,  evoking  indignant 
protests. 

"  I  had  inserted  the  last  two  hairpins  in  quite  a  mas- 
terly fashion,  when  you  undid  it  all  by  that  light  skirmish- 
ing movement,"  he  grumbled. 

"  It  doesn't  matter.  I  really  must  go  back  home,"  said 
Jem,  with  a  recurrence  of  self-consciousness.  "  Indeed  I 
should  bore  you.  Nobody  who  admires  Mrs.  Hilliard  could 
help  being  bored  by  me." 

Hugh  looked  rather  surprised,  and  Jem  blushed  deeply. 

"That's  just  like  me!"  cried  Jem,  despairingly.  "Of 
course  I  ought  not  to  have  said  that." 

"  Why  not?  It  is  quite  true  that  I  do  admire  Mrs.  Hil- 
liard very  much.  I  was  in  love  with  her  before  her  mar- 
riage." 

"  Oh,  I  could  see  that,"  exclaimed  the  young  girl  quickly. 

The  obtuse  male  creature  was  astonished. 

"  How  could  you  see  that?"  he  asked  quickly  in  his  turn. 

"  Oh,  it  was  easy  enough.  I — I "Well,  I've  been  in 

love  myself." 

Hugh  looked  interested. 

"Wouldn't  it  be  rather  good  fun,"  suggested  he,  after 


LOVE-SECRETS.  145 

a  moment's  pause  to  recover  from  his  astonishment  at  this 
artless  confession,  "to  go  somewhere — to  some  picture- 
show,  for  instance — and  compare  notes?" 

"It  would  rather,"  admitted  Jem. 

Hugh  hailed  a  hansom. 

"Where  to,  sir?"  asked  the  driver,  looking  through  the 
trapdoor  above  them  when  they  had  got  in. 

"  Oh,  to — to — to  a  glove-shop  first. " 

Jem  had  a  horrible  pang  of  torture.     She  had  not 
brought  her  purse ! 
10 


CHAPTEK  XIX. 
HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  SUSPICIONS. 

"On,  no,"  cried  Jem  Collingham  faintly,  as  the  driver 
of  the  hansom  said,  "  Eight,  sir,"  and  whipped  up  his  horse. 

Hugh  Thorndyke  turned  to  her  gravely. 

"  I — I  haven't  brought  my  purse !"  faltered  Jem.  "  And 
— and " 

"But  I've  brought  mine;  at  least,  no,  I  never  carry  a 
purse,  it  saves  the  pickpockets  so  much  trouble  if  one  does. 
But  I  have  a  whole  handful  of  coins  scattered  about  me, 
and  I  can  become  your  creditor  to  any  reasonable  amount. 
Here  we  are.  What  is  your  size?  Sixes,  I  suppose?" 

"Six  and  three-quarters,"  murmured  Jem  bashfully. 
"It's  a  dreadfully  large  size,  isn't  it?" 

"  Shockingly !  However,  we  can  make  an  effort  to  pro- 
cure hand-coverings  of  those  preposterous  dimensions." 

They  went  into  the  shop,  and  Jem  was  astonished  to  find 
that  she  was  promptly  fitted  with  a  pair  of  gloves  which 
made  her  hands  look  much  smaller  than  usual.  Jem  was 
delighted.  She  saw  Hugh  put  down  a  sovereign,  and  her 
pleasure  was  changed  to  consternation  when  she  caught 
sight  of  the  change  as  he  took  it  up  from  the  counter. 
When  they  got  outside  the  shop,  her  companion  was  alarmed 
to  see  that  every  trace  of  color  had  left  her  face. 

"What's  the  matter?     Are — are  you " 

"  Wh — what  did  they  cost?"  faltered  Jem. 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.     The  proper  price,  I  suppose." 

"  The  proper  price  of  my  gloves  is  always  one  and  eleven 


HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  SUSPICIONS.  147 

pence  halfpenny,"  said  Jem  with  dilated  eyes.  "  But  these 
— oh,  let  me  look  at  your  change!" 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  got  mixed  up  with  the  rest  of  my  wealth 
now,"  said  he,  diving  into  the  pocket  in  which  he  had  put 
the  money.  " But  it's  all  right;  if  the  proper  price  is  one 
and  eleven  pence  halfpenny,  no  doubt  it  was  one  and 
eleven  pence  halfpenny  that  they  took." 

"Oh,  no,  it  wasn't,"  groaned  Jem.  "They  only  gave 
you  back  a  half-sovereign  and  two  half-crowns,  I'm  sure. 
And  when  mamma  hears  that  I've  paid  five  shillings  for  a 
pair  of  gloves,  I  don't  know  what  she  will  say." 

"But  you  didn't,"  said  Hugh.  "It  was  all  the  fault 
of  my  stupidity  in  letting  them  cheat  me  out  of  three 
shillings  and  a  halfpenny. " 

Jem  shook  her  head. 

"They  didn't  cheat  you,"  said  she  with  conviction. 
"  These  are  lovely  gloves,  the  best  I've  ever  had.  The  one 
and  eleven  pence  halfpenny  ones  always  bulge  out  in  the 
wrong  places  and  show  white  at  the  seams,  when  they  don't 
split  up  directly  when  you  put  them  on." 

By  this  time  they  were  back  in  the  cab.  Her  companion 
frowned  in  some  bewilderment. 

"But  surely,"  said  Hugh  gently,  "if  the  cheap  ones 
bulge  out  and  split  up,  and  the  dear  ones  are  everything 
they  should  be,  it  is  a  mistake  not  to  call  the  cheap  ones 
dear  and  the  dear  ones  cheap." 

"  Mamma  doesn't  think  so,"  said  Jem  with  a  sigh. 

Hugh  Thorndyke  took  it  for  granted  that  Miss  Colling- 
ham  was  one  of  those  numerous  unfortunate  young  ladies 
who  have  to  be  content  with  a  very  exiguous  allowance  of 
pocket-money.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  Jem  should  have 
been  particularly  well  off  in  this  respect.  The  trustees  of 
her  mother's  property  allowed  her  a  handsome  sum  for  her 
personal  expenses;  but  this  had  come  to  be  confiscated  with 


148  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

the  utmost  regularity  by  her  stepmother,  with  poor  Jem's 
easy  consent.  She  was  the  best-natured  girl  in  the  world, 
and  it  seemed  to  her  not  at  all  unfair,  although  it  was  a 
little  inconvenient,  that  the  money  which  was  intended  to 
pay  for  her  dress,  small  expenses,  and  the  perfecting  of  her 
education,  should  go  in  paying  for  Major  Collingham's  club 
expenses,  and  in  filling  the  gap  in  her  stepmother's  ac- 
counts left  by  that  lady's  slipshod  methods  of  housekeeping. 

Hugh  stopped  the  hansom  in  Kegent  Street,  in  front  of 
a  shop  where  the  display  of  highly  colored  confectionery  in 
the  window  attracted  Jem's  unsophisticated  eyes.  They 
entered  the  shop,  and  Jem  found  it  quite  hard  to  keep  her 
eyes  from  gloating  greedily  over  the  plate  of  cakes  which 
stood  on  the  little  marble  table  at  which  they  sat  down. 
Hugh's  warnings  she  took  lightly :  he  mistrusted  pink  su- 
gar, and  had  no  faith  in  saffron-tinted  delicacies.  It  is  a 
shocking  thing  to  have  to  admit,  but  she  was  so  much 
absorbed  in  an  eclair  which  Hugh  had  condemned  as  "  pre- 
historic" that  when  he  recalled  her  to  the  subject  of  her 
love,  she  started,  and  blushed,  and  said  "Oh,  yes!"  in  a 
tone  which  showed  that  she  had  forgotten  all  about  it. 

"  You  said,  you  know,"  went  on  Hugh,  with  secret  amuse- 
ment, "  that  you  knew  all  the  signs  and  symptoms  of  love 
because  you  were  in  love  yourself." 

"  Yes,  so  I  am,"  said  Jem  readily. 

And  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  and  a  shy  glance  at  her 
companion  to  see  whether  he  was  shocked,  she  put  out  her 
hand  for  a  baba  au  rhum. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  take  it  very  seriously!" 

"Oh,  but  I  do,  though,"  said  Jem  ingenuously,  "espe- 
cially on  wet  days.  Then  I  feel  awfully,  awfully  serious 
and  miserable.  Do  you  think,"  she  went  on  curiously, 
"  that  anybody  can  be  quite  as  much  in  love,  in  unrequited 
love,  I  mean,  when  the  sun  shines  as  when  it  rains?" 


HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  SUSPICIONS.  149 

Hugh  sat  back  and  looked  at  his  umbrella. 

"The  question  has  never  put  itself  to  me  like  that,"  he 
said  meditatively.  "  But  I  believe  there's  something  in  it." 

"I'm  sure  there  is,"  said  Jem,  gaining  confidence  from 
his  manner,  in  which  she  perceived  appreciation.  "  "When 
you  are  shut  up  indoors,  and  can't  go  out,  and  you  think 
of  some  one  you  care  about  who  doesn't  care  very  much  about 
you,  you  feel  as  if  you  could  cut  your  throat  for  the  sake  of 
that  person.  But  on  a  day  like  this,  when  you're  enjoying 
yourself,  and  especially  when  you're  eating  tarts, — well,  you 
feel  after  all  as  if  it  didn't  matter  so  much." 

"You  are  enjoying  yourself,  then?"  said  Hugh,  breaking 
away  from  the  main  question. 

Jem  answered  him  by  a  smile,  in  which  overflowing 
youthful  enjoyment  was  tempted  by  anxiety  to  be  strictly 
correct  in  deportment.  Presently  Hugh  began  to  smile,  too. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at?  Is  it  at  my  appetite?"  asked 
Jem. 

"  No,  no,  certainly  not.  Try  this  one  now :  it  isn't  quite 
so  garish  in  color  as  the  last,  but  I'll  undertake  that  it 
will  do  your  digestion  less  harm.  No.  If  I  was  smiling,  it 
was  at  your  fancy  that  your  love  is  unrequited. " 

"  It  isn't  fancy,"  answered  she  gravely.  "  It's  hard,  solid 
fact.  He's  in  love  with  somebody  else — very,  very  much 
in  love.  He  was  a  little  in  love  with  me  before,  I  think ; 
but  that's  all  over — with  him." 

"  Then  you  should  pluck  up  your  spirit,  and  let  it  be  all 
over  with  you,  too." 

"  What  I  feel  wouldn't  be  love  at  all  if  I  could  do  that," 
said  Jem  sententiously.  "  You  must  know  that  yourself. 
Besides,  I  can't  be  jealous.  She's  so  much  better  and  more 
attractive  than  I  am,  and  then  she's  married." 

"Married?" 

"  Why  do  you  speak  in  that  tone?" 


150  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Well,  if  he  is  in  love  with  a  married  woman,  I  shouldn't 
have  anything  more  to  do  with  him!" 

The  glance  which  the  young  girl  shot  at  him  could  bear 
but  one  interpretation. 

"  I  was  in  love  once  with  a  woman  who  is  now  married," 
he  said,  answering  the  look.  "  But  now  I  shall,  of  course, 
take  care  to  get  rid  of  the  last  trace  of  sentiment  with  re- 
gard to  her." 

Jem  looked  incredulous,  but  she  cast  down  her  pretty  blue 
eyes  and  said  nothing. 

"Depend  upon  it,"  he  went  on  in  a  judicial  tone,  "the 
man  who,  when  he  has  the  chance  of  being  loved  by  a  sweet 
young  girl,  deliberately  neglects  his  opportunities  for  the 
sake  of  a  flirtation  with  a  married  woman,  is  not 
worth " 

"It  is  not  a  flirtation,"  cried  Jem  indignantly;  "she  has 
saved  his  life,  and  made  him  give  up  gambling  and  bad 
habits,  and  been  his  good  angel  altogether.  She  has  kept 
him  out  of  the  hands  of  her  husband " 

Jem  stopped,  for  Hugh  had  looked  at  her  in  sudden 
amazement  as  the  story  developed,  and  from  interesting  be- 
came startling. 

Jem  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  hair,  conscious  that  she 
had  been  indiscreet. 

"  Her  husband !"  exclaimed  Hugh  slowly.  "  So  her  hus- 
band was  one  of  the  bad  companions,  was  he?" 

But  Jem  had  had  a  fright,  and  she  would  say  no  more. 
To  the  simple  belief  she  entertained  that  the  unnamed 
woman  was  an  angel  of  light,  and  the  unnamed  man  a 
creature  worthy  an  angel's  attentions,  she,  however,  stuck 
bravely.  He,  on  his  side,  had  quite  made  up  his  mind 
that  the  young  man  was  a  fool,  and  that  the  attractive  wo- 
man was  in  league  with  her  husband  to  "  fleece  him. "  The 
difference  in  opinion  between  them  was  so  hopelessly  great 


HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  SUSPICIONS.  151 

that  Hugh  was  glad  when  the  matter  dropped;  he  was 
afraid  of  saying  more  than  he  was  justified  in  saying. 

But  the  subject  cropped  up  again,  in  an  unexpected  man- 
ner, before  many  minutes  had  passed.  To  Hugh's  proposal 
that  they  should  walk  back  to  Waterloo,  and  look  at  the 
shops  on  their  way,  Jem  had  assented  with  delight.  They 
had  not  gone  far  before  they  almost  ran  against  Gerard  Wal- 
ler as  he  was  coming  out  of  the  West  End  office  of  a  life 
insurance  society.  The  start  and  blush  on  Jem's  part  be- 
trayed her  to  Hugh  Thorndyke's  eyes. 

Gerard  was  in  high  spirits.  He  glanced  at  Hugh,  but 
seemed  to  be  curious  rather  than  jealous.  With  much  of 
the  clumsiness  of  the  inexperienced,  Jem  introduced  the  two 
men  to  each  other.  At  the  first  moment  of  looking  into 
each  other's  face  they  conceived  a  mutual  liking,  and  they 
shook  hands  cordially. 

"I  didn't  expect  to  meet  you,  Jem,"  said  Gerard.  "I 
don't  think  I've  ever  met  you  in  town  before.  I've  been 
insuring  my  life." 

"  Insuring  your  life !"  echoed  Jem,  with  undisguised  ap- 
prehension. "  You're  not  going  to  kill  yourself,  are  you?" 

Gerard  laughed. 

"  No.  If  I  were,  the  insurance  money  wouldn't  be  paid, 
you  know." 

"  But  what  do  you  do  it  for?"  persisted  Jem. 

Gerard  glanced  at  the  other  man  and  laughed. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  it's  one  way  of  raising  the  wind.  Isn't 
it?"  he  added,  addressing  Hugh. 

"Not  a  very  advisable  way  always,"  said  the  other  man. 

Gerard  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Sometimes  it's  the  only  way  left,"  said  he.  "But  the 
point  of  it  is  that  I'm  so  proud  of  being  able  to  do  it  at  all. 
A  year  ago  they  wouldn't  have  taken  me  at  any  premium. 
Now  I  have  every  prospect  of  being  accepted  without  any 


152  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

difficulties.  Which  way  are  you  going?  May  I  walk  with 
you  a  little  way?" 

Jem  was  delighted  by  the  suggestion ;  indeed,  it  was  quite 
evident  to  Hugh  that  she  would  have  been  willing  to  dis- 
pense with  his  attendance  altogether.  But  he  wanted  to 
see  more  of  Gerard.  He  kept  modestly  in  the  background, 
however,  and  ungrateful  Jem  hardly  remembered  that  he 
was  there. 

It  was  not  until  they  had  seen  Miss  Collingham  safely 
into  her  train,  and  the  two  men  were  left  standing  together, 
that  Hugh  remembered  that  he  had  lost  his  opportunity 
of  learning  the  name  of  Netelka's  husband. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A   TRAGIC   MISTAKE. 

HUGH  THORNDKYE  and  Gerard  Waller  walked  away  from 
the  station  together,  crossed  Waterloo  Bridge,  strolled  along 
the  Strand,  and  were  so  much  pleased  with  each  other's  so- 
ciety that  they  ended  by  lunching  together  at  the  "  Crite- 
rion." 

Hugh's  interest  in  Gerard,  who  was  some  ten  years 
younger  than  himself,  had  its  origin  in  two  causes:  the  one 
being  the  vivacious  and  humorous  personality  of  the  man 
himself,  the  other  Jem's  affection  for  him.  Hugh  felt,  in 
a  lazily  benevolent  sort  of  way,  that  he  should  like  to  help 
to  make  two  young  people  happy ;  and  he  spoke  rapturously 
about  Jem,  without,  however,  eliciting  any  very  enthusi- 
astic comments  in  return. 

Before  luncheon  was  over,  indeed,  Gerard  began  to  look 
at  his  watch,  and  to  talk  of  an  "  appointment,"  which  Hugh 
shrewdly  guessed  to  be  with  the  "  married  woman"  of  whom 
Jem  had  spoken.  It  was  rather  curious,  perhaps,  that  it 
never  once  occurred  to  Hugh  that  the  woman  in  question 
might  be  Netelka.  The  reason  of  this  lack  of  penetration 
was  probably  the  conviction  he  had  formed  that  she  was  an 
adventuress  of  the  worst  type,  in  league  with  male  accom- 
plices for  the  ruin,  body  and  soul,  of  this  young  fellow. 

In  this  opinion  Hugh  was  confirmed  by  certain  words 
which  fell  from  Gerard,  implying  cynical  doubts  about  the 
men  of  his  acquaintance  and  an  overwhelming  belief  in 
women  in  general,  which  Hugh  interpreted  as  being  the 
outcome  of  admiration  for  one  in  particular. 


154  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Before  they  separated,  Hugh  had  decided  upon  attempt- 
ing the  quixotic  task  of  opening  the  eyes  of  the  foolish  lad. 
Gerard  was  in  the  hands  of  the  money-lenders,  that  was 
evident;  so  Hugh  affected  to  be  in  want  of  money  himself, 
and  asked  his  companion  if  he  knew  of  a  "  financial  agent" 
to  whom  he  could  apply. 

"I  can  tell  you  the  name  of  my  own  robber,  of  course," 
said  the  younger  man.  "  But  I  don't  know  that  there  are 
any  more  points  about  him  than  about  any  other  gentleman 
of  his  class,  or  of  his  persuasion." 

"Hebrew,  I  suppose?" 

"  Of  course.  He  calls  himself  Harrington  Moseley,  but 
I  'spects  he  growed  plain  Moses  without  any  Harrington." 

Hugh  asked  for  his  address,  and  a  few  moments  after- 
ward the  new-made  friends  separated,  not  before  Gerard 
had  increased  the  suspicions  of  the  other  by  mentioning 
that  he  lived  out  of  town  in  the  house  of  some  married 
friends. 

Hugh  took  an  early  opportunity  of  calling  upon  Harring- 
ton Moseley,  with  whom  he  negotiated  a  small  loan  of  which 
he  was  not  in  need,  to  establish  an  acquaintance  with  the 
Jew.  He  mentioned  the  name  of  Gerard  Waller,  and  at 
once  obtained  in  return  some  valuable  information. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Moseley,  "young  "Waller  is  a  great 
friend  of  mine.  Lives  down  at  Wimbledon  just  now,  at 
'The  Firs,'  with  some  friends  of  mine.  People  named 
Hilliard ;  husband  awfully  nice  fellow — great  friend  of  mine ; 
wife  most  charming  woman  you  ever  met  in  your  life.  Ask 
Waller!" 

And  the  Jew  gave  an  unpleasant  leer. 

"  Did  he  ask  you  down  there?" 

"  No,"  said  Hugh.     "  He  hardly  knows  me  well  enough." 

"  Oh,  they  don't  stand  upon  ceremony  down  there,"  said 
Mr.  Moseley  promptly.  "  That  is  to  say,  of  course,"  and 


A  TRAGIC  MISTAKE.  155 

he  pulled  himself  up  as  if  he  had  said  rather  more  than  he 
had  intended,  "  they  are  very  nice  people,  and  Mrs.  Hil- 
liard  is  very  particular.  But  they  are  very  good  to  their 
friends.  I,  for  instance,  am  allowed  to  do  just  as  I  like 
down  there,  and  to  take  down  my  own  friends  to  have  a 
quiet  game  of  poker — of  course  you  play  poker? — or  bacca- 
rat.  I  don't  abuse  the  privilege,  of  course,  but  I  use  it; 
and  if  you  would  care  to  come  down  there  with  me  some 
evening,  I  can  guarantee  you  a  pleasant  time." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Hugh.  "There's  nothing  I  should 
like  more." 

"  What  do  you  say  to  next  Wednesday  night,  then  ?  I  have 
half-a-dozen  awfully  nice  young  fellows  coming  down  on 
that  night — I  didn't  want  them  to  come;  I've  been  rather 
out  of  sorts,  and  I  wanted  a  quiet  week;  but  the  beggars 
insisted.  If  you'll  join  our  party,  I'll  give  you  directions 
how  to  get  to  my  rooms.  There's  a  side  door  I  always  use 
when  I  have  a  few  fellows  down  with  me,  so  as  not  to  dis- 
turb Mrs.  H or  the  rest  of  the  household  more  than  I 

can  help." 

Mr.  Moseley  had  indicated,  more  by  look  and  tone  than 
by  his  words,  exactly  the  sort  of  entertainment  he  proposed 
to  offer,  since  he  had  perceived  that  his  visitor  was  not  a 
man  to  be  frightened  by  the  revelation. 

Hugh  understood,  as  he  went  down  the  dark  wooden 
stairs,  into  the  street,  that  the  money-lender  proposed  to 
introduce  him  to  a  gambling  club  where  the  stakes  were 
high. 

One  small  item  of  the  entertainment  Mr.  Moseley  had  in- 
deed omitted  to  mention  to  his  new  client,  but  it  was  one 
which  that  experienced  person  was  prepared  to  find  out  for 
himself. 

On  the  following  Wednesday  evening,  therefore,  Hugh 
Thorndyke  found  himself  at  the  side  door  of  "  The  Firs" 


156  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

which  had  been  indicated  by  the  Jew.  The  approach  was 
from  the  road  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  was  by  an 
avenue  of  trees  and  evergreens  which  formed  so  complete  a 
screen  that  a  person  could  enter  the  house  by  that  way  with- 
out being  seen  at  all  from  the  body  of  the  building. 

Experience  had  taught  Mr.  Moseley  caution,  so  within 
the  door,  which  could  not  be  opened  from  the  outside,  a 
man-servant  of  his  own  stood,  to  let  in  the  visitors  and 
show  them  the  way  upstairs. 

This  was  by  no  means  Hugh  Thorndyke's  first  experience 
of  a  gambling-house,  and  he  kept  his  eyes  and  ears  open. 
Mr.  Moseley  received  him  with  cordiality  and  introduced 
him  to  Linley. 

Now  Linley  had  heard  the  name  of  Hugh  Thorndyke 
mentioned  by  Netelka  as  that  of  one  of  the  sweethearts  of 
her  girlhood's  days;  but  Hugh  had  gone  abroad  before  Lin- 
ley himself  had  ever  met  Netelka  and  had  no  means  of  know- 
ing that  Linley  "  Hilliard"  was  Linley  Dax,  or  that  he  was 
Netelka's  husband. 

The  card  party,  which  consisted  for  the  most  part  of  very 
young  men,  some  of  them  belonging  to  very  "  smart  sets" 
indeed,  soon  split  up  into  groups:  while  one  set  sat  down  to 
baccarat,  another,  at  Linley 's  suggestion,  played  poker. 
Linley  played  well,  very  well :  it  was  a  recognized  fact  among 
the  players;  and  Hugh  noticed  that  the  expressionless, 
bloodless  face  was  peculiarly  well  adapted  for  the  game,  in 
which  self-control  is  such  an  important  factor.  It  was 
not  long,  however,  before  Hugh  began  to  suspect  that  Mr. 
Hilliard  was  not  contented  with  the  advantage  his  naturally 
impassive  countenance  gave  him:  he  had  extraordinarily 
good  hands,  which  grew  better  as  the  play  proceeded. 
Hugh  began  to  watch  him  narrowly:  then  he  perceived, 
catching  a  furtive  glance  from  Linley 's  light  eyes,  that  that 
gentleman  knew  that  he  was  being  watched.  Instantly 


A  TRAGIC  MISTAKE.  157 

adapting  his  play  to  this  knowledge,  Linley  became  care- 
ful, and  for  some  time  the  hands  he  held  deteriorated  in 
quality  and  his  play  became  above  suspicion. 

At  last  Linley  evidently  found  the  restraints  put  upon 
him  irksome,  and  his  manner  toward  the  suspicious  stranger 
grew  curt  and  cold.  Mr.  Moseley,  who  scarcely  ever  played 
himself,  excusing  himself  on  the  grounds  that  he  was  such 
a  bad  player,  and  that  the  cards  confused  him,  noticed  that 
something  was  wrong,  and  came  to  the  table  at  a  pause  in 
the  game.  He  and  Linley  exchanged  what  looked  like  a 
series  of  signals.  The  end  of  the  rapidly  exchanged  signs 
was  that  Linley  looked  down  on  the  floor,  raising  his  eyes 
again  immediately.  All  this  telegraphy  was  so  neat  and  so 
rapid  that  only  a  person  prepared,  as  Hugh  was,  for  some- 
thing of  the  sort,  would  have  noticed  that  it  bore  any  sig- 
nificance. 

Then  Mr.  Moseley  spoke. 

"  I  don't  believe,"  said  he  in  a  good-humored  tone,  "  that 
Mr.  Thorndyke  cares  a  bit  more  for  cards  than  I  do.  He 
is  making  a  martyr  of  himself  to  please  the  rest  of  you.  Am 
I  not  right?"  he  ended,  turning  to  Hugh. 

"It  is  quite  true,"  said  Hugh  coldly,  "that  I  have  not 
enjoyed  the  game  much  to-night." 

Mr.  Moseley  cut  in  hastily,  not  liking  the  visitor's  tone. 

"  Come  downstairs  with  me,  then,"  he  suggested,  "and  I 
will  introduce  you  to  Mrs.  Hilliard.  We  will  ask  her  to 
give  us  non- card-players  a  little  music.  Are  you  fond  of 
music?" 

"Very,"  said  Hugh  rather  shortly,  rising  with  so  much 
precipitancy  that  Linley  threw  a  warning  glance  at  the  Jew. 

And  Hugh  Thorndyke  followed  Mr.  Moseley  downstairs, 
with  his  temper  very  near  boiling  point.  What  further 
confirmation  did  he  need  of  his  suspicions  of  the  entire 
household?  He  had  seen  the  young  men  upstairs  borrowing 


158  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

money  from  the  Jew:  he  was  certain,  although  he  could  not 
prove  the  fact,  that  Hilliard  cheated  his  fellow-players. 
And  now,  was  it  not  evident  that,  having  discovered  him  to 
be  not  only  too  good  a  poker-player  to  be  easily  beaten,  but 
too  suspicious  a  one  to  be  easily  cheated,  they  were  turning 
him  over  to  their  female  accomplice,  in  the  hope  that  she 
would  have  better  luck  in  the  attempt  to  fleece  him. 

Netelka  was  not  in  the  drawing-room  when  Mr.  Moseley 
brought  in  his  inconvenient  guest.  She  had  been  in  the 
lowest  of  low  spirits  since  her  last  visit  to  her  aunt,  who 
had  seemed  to  her  unusually  cold  and  unsympathetic,  and 
unwilling  to  give  her  any  practical  advice.  Even  the  dis- 
covery that  Linley  was  part  manager  of  a  gambling-house 
had  not  shaken  Lady  Kenslow's  opinion  that  it  was  better 
for  his  wife  to  remain  with  him  than  to  cast  herself  adrift. 
Therefore  Netelka  had  returned  home  uncomforted,  except 
by  Gerard,  who  thought  lightly  of  this  particular  trouble, 
and  still  urged  upon  her  the  advisability  of  taking  life  as  it 
came,  and  not  frittering  one's  life  away  in  vain  regrets  and 
hankerings  after  an  ideal  standard  for  everybody. 

She  had  listened  in  silence,  and  remained  unconvinced. 
And  the  realrelief  to  her  unhappiness  did  not  come  until 
Jem,  having  escaped  from  "  The  Maisonette"  on  a  pretext 
of  a  guild-meeting  at  the  Vicarage,  had  stolen  a  few  mo- 
ments at  "  The  Firs"  on  the  very  evening  of  Hugh  Thorn- 
dyke's  visit. 

The  pretty  girl,  with  her  sweet  shy  face,  had  come  like 
a  ray  of  sunlight  upon  Netelka  and  Gerard,  who  had  been 
left  as  usual  to  spend  the  evening  in  each  other's  company. 
"When  the  female  element  thus  became  two  to  one,  the  talk 
naturally  drifted  on  to  frocks,  and  Netelka  had  taken  Jem 
upstairs  to  see  the  "delicious  little  theatre-jacket"  her 
dressmaker  had  just  sent  home,  when  Hugh  entered  the 
drawing-room. 


A  TRAGIC  MISTAKE.  159 

The  two  men  shook  hands,  sincerely  glad  to  meet  again. 
But  no  sooner  had  Harrington  Moseley  left  them  together 
than  Hugh's  long-pent-up  wrath  found  expression  in  an 
outburst  which  overwhelmed  the  unprepared  Gerard. 

"  Do  you  know  what  sort  of  a  house  this  is?"  he  began 
abruptly,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 

"Why,  yes,  I  do,"  replied  Gerard  promptly. 

"  Do  you  know  that  it  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  a 
gambling-hell,  and  that  it  is  liable  at  any  moment  to  be 
raided  by  the  police?" 

"  I  suppose  so. " 

"  And  that  the  man  who  keeps  it  is  a  Jew  money-lender, 
who  works  at  his  infernal  trade  here  night  after  night?" 

Gerard  nodded. 

"  And  that  the  other  fellow,  his  precious  partner,  is  a 
swindler  of  a  lower  sort  still — a  man  who  cheats  at  cards?" 

Gerard  changed  color  and  looked  up. 

"  No,"  said  he  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  did  not  know  that.  Are 
you  sure?" 

"  Perfectly,  absolutely.  I  have  no  sort  of  doubt  about  it. 
You  shall  come  up  there  with  me  some  other  night — if  they 
will  let  me  in  again,  which  I  doubt — and  see  for  yourself, 
and  we  will  see  if  we  can't  put  an  end  to  this  by  denounc- 
ing him  together." 

Gerard  sprang  up. 

"No,  no,  I  can't  do  that,"  he  cried  quickly.  "I  can't 
do  that.  The  man  may  be  a  cheat,  for  all  I  know.  But — • 
but  there  are  others." 

Hugh  interrupted  him  by  an  impatient  exclamation. 

"Others!  Yes.  Others  who  work  with  him,  help  him, 
play  into  his  hands  and  into  those  of  this  rascally  Jew ; 
others  who  do  the  work  better  than  he  can.  Mr.  Waller, 
you  must  forgive  me;  you  are  younger  and  less  seasoned 
than  I.  But  this  man's  wife  is  an  adventuress,  a  woman  who 


160  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

knows  and  pretends  not  to  know;  a  worse  cheat  than  her 
miserable  husband,  for  while  he  only  plays  for  your  money, 
she  plays  for  your  soul.  I  earnestly  beg  you  to  open  your 
eyes,  to  see  what  this  woman  is — to  see  that,  in  being  her 
dupe,  you  are  only  becoming  the  dupe  of  the  rascally  hus- 
band." 

"Liar!"  Gerard  made  a  spring  at  him,  and  Hugh,  pre- 
pared, warded  off  the  blow.  At  the  same  moment,  a  shrill 
scream  made  them  both  look  round. 

In  the  doorway  stood  Jem  and  Netelka,  both  white,  shaken 
by  the  few  words  they  had  heard.  It  was  Jem  who  had 
screamed :  Netelka  stood  silently  looking  from  the  one  to 
the  other  of  the  two  men,  until  Hugh  spoke  again : 

"  Netelka!"  he  exclaimed  in  astonishment,  not  at  first  un- 
derstanding the  significance  of  her  presence. 

She  stepped  forward. 

"Yes,"  she  said  with  a  hard  laugh,  in  a  voice  which 
sounded  dead  and  cold,  "Netelka  and — Linley  Hilliard's 
wife.  I  see  you  know  me  thoroughly." 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

A  MODEL  HUSBAND. 

THE  discovery  that  the  woman  he  had  been  denouncing 
as  an  adventuress,  an  accomplice  of  swindlers,  was  the 
woman  he  still  loved,  came  upon  Hugh  Thorndyke  with  so 
much  suddenness  that  for  the  first  moment  it  struck  him 
dumb.  He  did  realize  it ;  but  the  horror,  the  remorse  he 
felt  were  so  keen,  so  deep  that  he  could  say  no  word  in 
extenuation  of  his  blunder. 

When  Netelka  spoke,  he  reeled,  caught  the  back  of  a 
chair,  and  fell  into  it,  resting  his  head  upon  his  hands. 

Netelka  was  touched.  She  understood,  knowing  him 
better  than  Jem  or  Gerard  did,  what  was  passing  in  the 
mind  of  the  man  who  had  wanted  to  be  her  husband.  She 
saw  exactly  how  the  unlucky  occurrence  had  come  about, 
saw  that  he  had  only  been  doing  what  he  felt  to  be  his 
duty  in  warning  Gerard  against  what  he  supposed  to  be  a 
dangerous  intrigue.  So  when  Gerard  and  Jem  came 
nearer  to  her,  not  quite  knowing  what  to  say,  but  both  of 
them  full  of  sympathy  with  her  and  indignation  against 
the  offender,  Netelka  stepped  away  from  them  and  laid 
her  hand  gently  on  Hugh's  shoulders. 

"You  are  quite  right,  Hugh,"  she  said  gently,  "quite 
right,  absolutely  right." 

He  shivered,  but  did  not  look  up. 

"At  least,"  she  went  on,  as  Gerard  and  Jem  made  in- 
dignant interruptions,  "  you  are  absolutely  right  in  inten- 
11 


162  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

tion  and  in  the  recommendation  you  gave.  But  perhapa 
your  description  of  me  was  a  little  overdrawn!" 

Hugh  raised  his  head.  He  had  recovered  from  the  shock 
of  the  discovery  to  the  extent  of  realizing  more  clearly 
its  most  distressing  features.  Her  little  sarcasm  hurt  him 
not  at  all.  It  was  a  bit  of  petulance  to  which  she  was 
entitled,  but  there  was  something  more  serious  to  be  con- 
sidered. 

"  And  you,  you  are  the  wife  of  this  man,  this  swindler!" 

Netelka's  eyes  flashed. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  use  such  a  word.     You " 

Hugh  interrupted : 

"  Oh,  nonsense.  You  must  know,  you  do  know.  You 
have  brains,  Netelka.  I  knew  when  I  met  you  the  other 
day  that  you  were  not  happily  married " 

"How  did  you  know  anything  of  the  sort?  I  told  you 
that  I  was." 

Hugh  went  on  without  heeding  her  answer : 

"Where  is  your  aunt?  "Where  is  Lady  Kenslow?  Why 
don't  you  go  back  to  her?" 

Hugh  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  they  were  not  alone 
together,  he  and  she.  He  was  striding  up  and  down  the 
room  in  a  state  of  the  strongest  excitement. 

At  these  questions,  Netelka,  who  was  very  much  excited 
also,  broke  involuntarily  into  a  bitter  laugh. 

"  She  won't  have  me.  She  is  quite  satisfied  with  my 
position,  and  thinks  I  ought  to  be.  And  I " 

She  faltered  and  stopped,  perceiving  that  an  admission 
had  escaped  her.  She  recovered  herself  immediately,  and 
added  bravely:  "I  am  quite  satisfied  with  it  also." 

Hugh  would  have  been  wise  to  drop  the  discussion,  but 
the  matter  at  issue  was  too  important  for  that.  He  stopped 
short  in  his  walk  and  stood  in  front  of  her. 

"You  don't  mean  that,"  he  said.     " It  is  impossible." 


A  MODEL  HUSBAND.  163 

But  at  this  point  Gerard,  who  had  had  considerable 
difficulty  in  keeping  silence,  broke  into  the  talk. 

"Don't  you  think,"  he  suggested  in  a  voice  which  he 
kept,  with  an  effort,  in  a  very  low  key,  "  that  Mrs.  Hil- 
liard's  statement  settles  the  matter?  I  suppose  you  don't 
intend  to  try  to  bully  a  lady  into  agreeing  with  you, 
whether  she  likes  it  or  not?" 

Hugh  saw  his  mistake. 

"You  must  forgive  me,  Netelka,"  he  said  in  a  hoarse 
voice.  "  I  hardly  know  what  I  am  saying.  I  feel  as  if  I 
were  going  off  my  head.  But  to  remember  you  as  I  knew 
you  once,  and  then  to  come  back  and  find  you  married 
1-1-like  this " 

"You're  only  making  things  worse,  Mr.  Thorndyke," 
broke  in  Jem's  shrill  girlish  voice  unexpectedly.  She  was 
standing  by  Netelka,  and  kept  her  arms  clasped  tightly 
round  her,  watching  the  speakers  in  turn  with  bright, 
wide-open  eyes.  She  was  rather  shocked  and  very  much 
surprised  by  her  own  boldness  in  opening  her  mouth,  and 
the  sounds  which  came  forth  were  rather  tremulous,  but 
her  heart  was  bursting,  and  she  felt  that  she  must  speak 
on  behalf  of  her  friend.  "  You  have  no  right  to  come  and 
make  her  miserable.  Of  course  married  people  have  their 
troubles  like  other  people,  but  it  doesn't  do  any  good  to 
come  and  rake  them  up!" 

This  tirade  from  the  mouth  of  the  youngest  person  in 
the  room  was  so  unexpected  that  they  all  listened  at  first 
in  astonishment,  and  then  with  some  little  amusement. 
Netela  laughed  outright,  half  hysterically. 

"You  dear  child,"  she  said,  passing  a  caressing  hand 
down  the  young  girl's  arm,  "you  have  no  business  to  be 
here,  listening  to  such  things!  Gerard,  take  her  home." 

The  tears  were  in  her  eyes.  Jem  hesitated  for  one  mo- 
ment, and  then  she  flung  her  arms  round  Netelka's  neck. 


164  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  I'll  go,"  she  said.  "  But  it's  very  hard  to  leave  you  to 
be  worried  like  this." 

And  she  shot  an  indignant  glance  at  Hugh,  upon  whom, 
however,  it  was  thrown  away,  so  deeply  was  he  occupied  in 
thought.  It  only  made  him  smile  to  see  the  haughty  man- 
ner in  which  Jem  bowed  and  wished  him  "  good  night"  as 
she  passed  him  on  her  way  out  with  Gerard. 

"A  nice  little  girl  that!"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  and  Ne- 
telka  were  alone  together. 

"She  is  the  sweetest  creature  I  have  ever  met,"  said  Ne- 
telka  fervently,  glad  to  turn  the  conversation  away  from 
herself  and  her  affairs,  "  and  in  consequence  she  is  sacri- 
ficed every  hour  of  the  day  to  the  caprices  of  a  foolish  step- 
mother and  the  selfishness  of  an  equally  brainless  old  papa. 
I  want  to  see  her  happily  married,  but  both  papa  and 
mamma  are  very  anxious  to  keep  her  single  unless  she  can 
find  a  husband  with  money ;  for  they  get  the  benefit  of  her 
own  fortune  as  long  as  she  remains  with  them." 

"Poor  little  thing!"  said  Hugh,  in  admiration.  For  in 
the  light  of  this  revelation  Jem's  behavior  on  the  occasion 
of  their  walk  together  seemed  extraordinarily  sweet  and 
touching.  "  I  am  glad,  Netelka,  that  you  have  at  least 
one  friend  near  you  whom  you  can  care  for.  She  lives 
close  by,  does  she  not?" 

"Yes, "said  Netelka.  "  You  are  mistaken  in  thinking 
that  I  am  so  short  of  friends,  and  good  friends  too,"  she 
said  quickly.  "  Gerard  "Waller,  whom  I  hope  to  see  mar- 
ried to  her  some  day,  is  another  friend  in  whom  I  can  trust 
implicitly." 

''Ah!" 

Hugh's  face  had  clouded  again  as  he  uttered  this  excla- 
mation. Netelka  went  steadily  on  with  what  she  had  to 
say: 

"I  pride  myself  on  having  done  the  boy  some  good," she 


A  MODEL  HUSBAND.  165 

said,  as  she  seated  herself  at  the  piano,  and  began  to  play 
a  waltz  as  if  nothing  very  serious  had  been  occupying  her 
mind.  "  A  year  ago  he  was  addicted  to  gambling,  and  was 
doing  everything  he  could  to  find  the  shortest  way  down 
hill.  I  showed  him  how  silly  he  was,  persuaded  him  into 
common  sense ;  and  I  am  very  proud  of  the  result.  I  assure 
you  he  is  not  the  same  man  that  he  was  when  I  took  him 
in  hand." 

"So  I  understand,"  said  Hugh  shortly.  "I  met  him 
coming  out  of  an  insurance  office,  where  he  had  been  in- 
suring his  life.  And  he  said  that  a  year  ago  he  couldn't 
have  done  it." 

Netelka's  playing  had  not  ceased,  but  it  had  suddenly 
become  hard  and  mechanical,  while  her  face  had  grown 
rigid.  Hugh,  watching  her  narrowly,  full  of  suspicion, 
guessed  something  like  the  truth  at  once. 

"  Ah,"  he  exclaimed.     "  You  didn't  know  this?" 

Netelka  recovered  herself  in  a  measure,  and  answered  with 
an  assumption  of  indifference: 

"  I  don't  remember  to  have  heard  it.  But  it  doesn't  con- 
cern me.  Surely  you  don't  think  that  it  does?"  she  added, 
with  a  sudden  change  in  her  voice  to  pleading,  to  plaintive 
entreaty. 

"No,  no,  no.  Good  heavens,  no!"  cried  Hugh  passion- 
ately. "How  can  you  suggest  such  a  thing?  But  your 
husband — and  this  Jew  Moseley — do  you  think,  don't  you 
think  they  have  something  to  do  with  it?" 

In  truth,  poor  Netelka  had  been  asking  herself  this  ques- 
tion, with  the  agonizing  certainty  that  there  could  only 
be  one  answer  to  it.  But  she  was  not  going  to  betray  her 
own  husband,  and  she  made  a  valiant  stand. 

"  Really  your  conduct  this  evening  is  very  extraordinary," 
she  said,  affecting  a  tone  of  some  levity.  "  You  begin  by 
accusing  me  of  terrible  crimes " 


166  A  SENSATIONAL  CASB. 

"No,  no,"  protested  Hugh. 

"  You  retract^  and  attack  my  husband  instead.  And  all 
without  much  knowledge  to  support  your  accusations. 
You  seem  to  have  brought  back  with  you  the  habit  a  man 
acquires  in  savage  countries  of  carrying  a  revolver  in  his 
breast-pocket  and  of  looking  upon  every  one  he  meets  as  a 
probable  rogue.  I  should  have  thought  that  I,  as  an  old 
friend,  might  have  been  reckoned  beyond  suspicion,  and 
that  my  husband,  as  my  husband,  might  have  been 
accorded  the  same  meed  of  grace." 

"But  a  cheat!  A  card-sharper!"  cried  Hugh.  "It  is 
all  the  worse  in  him,  as  he  is  your  husband." 

"Sh — sh!"  said  Netelka  below  her  breath,  in  great 
alarm. 

For  Hugh  had  spoken  in  stentorian  tones,  and  there  was 
more  than  one  person  in  the  house,  as  Netelka  knew,  who 
was  not  too  proud  to  listen  at  interesting  keyholes. 

And  then,  before  another  word  could  be  uttered,  the 
nearest  door  was  opened  very  quietly  by  Linley.  Hugh, 
who  had  been  leaning  upon  the  piano,  drew  himself  up 
with  great  stiffness.  Netelka  turned  very  white,  but  said 
nothing.  She  guessed  from  the  look  on  her  husband's  face 
that  by  accident  or  otherwise  he  had  heard  Hugh's  last 
speech. 

"  I  hope  I  am  not  in  the  way,  that  I'm  not  breaking  up 
a  pleasant  tete-a-tete  ?  "  said  Linley  disagreeably. 

Hugh  felt  sick.  Pitying  the  woman  before  him  with 
all  his  heart,  he  felt  that  he  was  utterly  powerless  to  help 
her.  At  the  same  time  he  experienced  such  a  longing  to 
kick  the  little  pink  and  white  faced  man  who  had  cheated 
him  of  his  money,  that  he  could  only  resist  the  temptation 
by  keeping  his  eyes  carefully  fixed  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion. Linley  was  more  incensed  by  this  contemptuous 
treatment  than  by  the  accusations  he  had  overheard. 


A  MODEL  HUSBAND.  167 

"My  dear,"  said  he,  in  a  hypocritical,  effusively  affec- 
tionate tone  to  his  wife,  as  he  sidled  up  to  her,  "  is  this  per- 
son a  particular  friend  of  yours?  " 

"I  knew  him — well — long  ago,  when  I  was  a  girl," 
answered  she,  in  a  constrained  voice. 

"  But  I  did  not  know  that  Mrs.  Hilliard  was  an  old  ac- 
quaintance of  mine  before  I  entered  this  room  half  an  hour 
ago,"  explained  Hugh,  forcing  himself  to  speak  with  a 
little  civility  for  Netelka's  sake.  "I  was  delighted  to 
meet  her  again,  but  I'm  afraid  I  have  been  rather  a  bore 
and  that  Mrs.  Hilliard  will  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  me." 

He  offered  Netelka  his  hand  as  he  spoke ;  but  Linley, 
doubling  his  fist,  struck  Hugh's  hand  down  so  sharply 
that  he  cut  the  fingers  of  the  other  man  with  the  large 
diamond  he  wore  on  his  little  finger. 

Netelka  drew  a  deep  breath  between  her  teeth,  but  she 
said  nothing. 

"Mrs.  Hilliard  will  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  you,"  snarled 
Linley,  "  and  so  shall  I." 

Netelka  moved,  tried  to  spring  up  from  her  seat.  But 
her  husband's  hand  was  on  her  shoulder,  and  fragile  and 
white  as  it  looked,  it  was  like  a  bar  of  iron. 

Cut  to  the  heart,  furious,  yet  keeping  command  of  him- 
self for  the  woman's  sake,  Hugh  bowed  and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE   MYSTEKY   OF  A   BROUGHAM. 

HUGH  THOKNDYKE  was  perhaps  the  first  person  who  had 
ever  been  able  to  appreciate  accurately  the  relation  in 
which  Linley  and  his  wife  stood  to  each  other.  Her 
vivacity,  her  natural  impetuosity,  the  love  of  effect  which 
made  her  dress  well,  and  dance  well,  and  walk  with  an  air 
of  distinction,  caused  people  to  think  that  Netelka  was  a 
woman  of  strong  will  and  masculine  understanding,  in 
whose  hands  her  pale,  delicate-fingered,  insignificant-look- 
ing husband  was  a  mere  puppet.  This  view  of  them  Linley 
had  long  known  and  taken  full  advantage  of.  Hugh, 
however,  had  had  a  chance  of  seeing  the  iron  hand  under 
the  velvet  glove;  and  remembering,  as  he  did,  the  sensi- 
tive and  impressionable  nature  of  Netelka  in  her  girlhood, 
he  was  able  to  understand  the  thraldom  in  which  her  hus- 
band held  her. 

He  looked  at  his  watch  as  he  came  out  of  the  house.  It 
was  twelve  o'clock.  The  last  train  back  to  town  would 
have  gone  by  this  time.  A  hansom  was  waiting  at  a  little 
distance  from  one  of  the  outer  gates  of  "  The  Firs,"  and  the 
driver,  catching  sight  of  him,  drove  up  at  once.  Hugh 
shook  his  head.  He  did  not  want  to  go  back  to  town  until 
he  had  had  another  talk  with  Netelka.  He  knew,  from 
Jem's  description,  which  house  was  "Maisonette,"  and 
seeing  that  the  lights  in  the  drawing-room  were  bright,  he 
concluded  that  Gerard  had  been  detained  there,  and  thought 
he  would  wait  outside  for  the  exchange  of  a  few  words  with 
him,  before  seeking  a  refuge  for  the  night  at  some  local  hotel. 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  BROUGHAM.  169 

There  was  such  a  very  little  bit  of  garden  between 
"  Maisonette"  and  the  road  that,  when  Hugh  came  close 
to  the  railings  and  looked  up  at  the  fantastic  little  green 
wooden  balcony  outside  the  drawing-room  window,  Jem, 
who  was  looking  out  into  the  night,  recognized  him  at  once, 
as  the  light  from  the  drawing-room  lamps  streamed  upon 
his  face. 

"Mamma,"  said  she,  stepping  back  into  the  room, 
"  there's  Mr.  Thorndyke  outside — the  gentleman  who  lent 
me  the  money  for  my  gloves  the  other  day,"  she  added 
hastily.  "  I  suppose  he  is  waiting  for  you,  Mr.  Waller. " 

Gerard  had  been  seized  by  the  Major  and  forced  to  sit 
down  to  cribbage  with  him.  He  now  jumped  up  hastily, 
with  an  apology,  being  just  as  anxious  to  see  Hugh  as 
Hugh  was  to  see  him.  Of  course  both  he  and  Jem  had 
maintained  a  discreet  silence  as  to  the  scene  which  had  just 
taken  place  at  "  The  Firs." 

Major  Collingham  laid  his  hand  imperiously  upon  the 
young  man's  arm  and  insisted  on  his  resuming  his  seat. 

"  We  will  have  your  friend  in,"  said  he  urbanely.  "  Sybil, 
my  dear,  run  down  and  ask  Mr.  Waller's  friend  to  come  in." 

Gerard  protested  that  it  was  too  late,  and  that  they 
would  be  keeping  Mrs.  Collingham  up;  but  neither  the 
Major  nor  his  wife  would  hear  any  objection.  They  liked 
to  be  kept  up,  they  said ;  they  wished  they  had  the  chance 
of  it  every  night.  The  fault  of  their  lives  was  that  there 
was  no  one  to  keep  them  up,  and  nothing  to  keep  up  for. 

So  Hugh  Thorndyke,  looking  rather  haggard  and  har- 
assed, and  unlikely  to  add  to  the  general  liveliness,  walked 
in  and  was  introduced.  He  thawed  a  little  under  the  in- 
fluence of  Mrs.  Collingham's  effusive  kindliness.  It  struck 
his  simple  soul  with  surprise  that  she  should  be  so  very 
grateful  for  the  service  she  had  rendered  to  the  young  lady 
whom  she  called  her  "  little  girl" ;  for  he  had  not  taken  to 


170  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

heart  Netelka's  remarks  about  the  Collinghams,  and  he 
certainly  never  suspected  the  vivacious  Sybil  of  a  wish  to 
throw  her  stepdaughter  at  the  head  of  a  man  of  whom  she 
knew  nothing. 

Mrs.  Collingham,  nevertheless,  had  really  conceived  the 
notion  that  this  good-looking  stranger,  whom  she  guessed 
to  be  well  off  from  some  remarks  he  had  made  to  Jem, 
would  "  do  very  well"  for  her  stepdaughter.  So  she  con- 
trived to  leave  the  entertaining  of  the  visitor  to  Jem, 
while  the  Major  and  Gerard  went  on  with  the  everlasting 
cribbage,  and  she  pottered  about  in  her  airy  and  frivolous 
manner,  which  suggested  anything  rather  than  the  delib- 
erate plan  it  concealed. 

"  Jem,  my  dear,  show  Mr.  Thorndyke  those  photographs 
of  Swiss  scenery,"  said  Mrs.  Collingham,  as  she  flirted  with 
a  Liberty  anti-macassar,  and  then  proceeded  to  hover  about 
the  fire  with  the  tongs.  "Don't  you  adore  Swiss 
scenery,  Mr.  Thorndyke?" 

"Yes,  yes;  oh,  I  do,"  answered  Hugh  mechanically. 

And  Jem,  who  had  dragged  a  huge  album  of  photo- 
graphs across  the  room  to  a  little  fragile  erection  of  sticky 
white  nicknackery  called  a  "cosy-corner,"  suddenly  put 
down  her  head  in  a  fit  of  laughter.  Hugh  sat  down  beside 
her  promptly. 

"Are  you  laughing  at  me,  Miss  Collingham?" 

Ashamed  of  her  own  merriment,  Jem  looked  up  with  a 
preternaturally  solemn  red  face. 

"Oh,  no,  no,"  she  answered  hastily,  throwing  open  the 
album  with  such  awkward  haste  that  it  cracked  and  threat- 
ened to  divide  into  two  parts. 

"Mind  what  you're  doing,"  said  Hugh  gently.  "See, 
you've  almost  broken  the  book!  " 

"  I  wish  to  goodness  I  could !  "  said  Jem  viciously,  as  she 
invited  him,  with  a  sweeping  gesture  of  her  right  hand, 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  BROUGHAM.  171 

to  admire  the  first  picture  she  offered  to  his  gaze.  "  You're 
the  one  thousand  and  eighth  person  I've  shown  this 
wretched  book  to.  I  always  have  to  do  it,  because  I  can't 
do  anything  else !  "  she  said  despairingly,  under  her  breath. 
"  I  know  all  the  pictures  by  heart,  and  could  find  any  one 
of  them  blindfold.  And  I  know  what  you  will  say,  or  at 
least  what  you  ought  to  say — what  every  one  else  says,  to 
every  one  of  them !" 

"Then  I  needn't  say  anything,"  said  Hugh,  with  a  great 
sigh  of  relief.  "  I've  never  been  to  Switzerland,  and  I 
don't  want  to  go  there  because  I've  an  idea  that  it's  chiefly 
inhabited  by  curates.  Not  that  I  have  any  objection  to 
curates,  but  to  meet  them  in  flocks,  like  that,  I  can  wait 
patiently  until  I  get  to  a  better  world." 

A  little  smile  hovered  about  the  corners  of  Jem's  mouth, 
but  she  said  gravely : 

"  It's  lucky  mamma  didn't  hear  you  say  that.  She  would 
think  you  flippant.  Curates  are  so  useful  in  the  suburbs; 
you  know  they're  the  only  gentlemen  you  can  get  to  come 
to  tea." 

While  Hugh  laughed,  Jem  put  her  hand  into  her  pocket 
and  produced  her  purse. 

"I'm  going  to  pay  you  for  those  gloves,"  she  said  in  a 
delightful  whisper,  with  a  still  more  delightful  blush. 

"Gloves!  No,  what  nonsense!"  cried  Hugh,  in  stupid, 
stentorian  tones,  which,  of  course,  made  everybody  turn 
round  and  look  at  him. 

While  this  happened,  Jem  sat  rigid,  and  pale  as  death, 
after  the  manner  of  self-conscious,  shy  young  girls,  to 
whom  the  important  matters  of  life  are  but  as  trifles  and 
dreams,  while  the  real  trifles  are  elevated  to  the  rank  of 
tragedies. 

"It's  not  nonsense,"  she  said  in  a  hissing  whisper,  with 
dilated  eyes.  "  You  must  let  me  pay  for  them.  I — I  shall 


172  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

feel  so  mean  if  you  don't!  As  if  I  had  left  my  purse  at 
home  on  purpose!" 

"I  don't  care  what  you  feel,"  said  Hugh,  obstinately. 
"I  don't  care  a  straw  for  anybody's  feelings  but  my  own. 
And  those  feelings  are  feelings  of  delight  in  having  taken 
down  your  pride  and  made  you  accept  a  pair  of  gloves 
from  that  superior  creature,  Man!" 

"I  didn't  say  Man  was  a  superior  creature,"  protested 
Jem  with  spirit. 

"You  politely  implied  it,  when  you  said  a  man's  time 
was  so  much  more  valuable  than  a  woman's.  Or  was  it — 
ah,  I  haven't  thought  of  that ! — only  a  neat  phrase  to  get 
rid  of  me  with?  " 

"Perhaps  that  was  it,"  said  Jem  demurely. 

"If  so,  it  was  a  failure,  you  must  admit  that,"  remarked 
Hugh,  with  composure. 

"In  the  mean  time,"  persisted  Jem,  as  she  put  a  half- 
crown  down  on  the  open  album,  and  a  two-shilling  piece 
on  that,  and  a  sixpence  on  the  top,  and  pushed  the  pile 
towards  him,  "  in  the  mean  time  I  will  pay  for  the  gloves." 

"  In  the  mean  time,"  said  Hugh,  putting  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  "  I  won't  let  you.  I  want  to  make  Waller 
jealous." 

Jem's  face  clouded. 

"I  wish  you  could,"  she  said  ingenuously. 

Hugh  looked  at  her  sweet  young  face  with  a  very  tender 
smile  upon  his  lips. 

"  Don't  you  know,  "said  he  in  a  voice  very  little  above 
a  whisper,  "that  there  isn't  one  man  in  a  thousand  who  is 
worth  being  cared  for  like  that?" 

He  was  rather  surprised  by  the  promptitude  and  aptness 
of  her  answer. 

"That  may  be,"  said  she.  "But  if  we  think  he  is, 
what  does  it  matter?  Now,  I  think  Gerard  is;  and  I  sup- 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  BROUGHAM.  173 

pose  yon  yourself  would  admit  that  he  is  quite  as  worthy 
of  that  wonderful  treasure,  my  liking,  as  any  other  man 
you  know?" 

"Why,  no,  he  isn't,"  protested  Hugh,  "because  he 
doesn't  appreciate  it,  while  most  others  do." 

Jem  looked  grave. 

"I  should  think  less  of  him  than  I  do,"  said  she,  "if  he 
could  think  of  me  when  there  is  poor  Mrs.  Hilliard  to 
think  about!" 

Hugh  looked  astonished. 

"What,  'the  married  woman'?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Jem,  deliberately.  "  I  should  never  be  jeal- 
ous of  Netelka;  I  love  her  too  much.  If  she  were  unmar- 
ried, Gerard  would  marry  her  and  they  would  be  happy, 
and  I  should  be  glad.  As  it  is,  his  devotion  does  no  harm  to 
anybody,  and  it  helps  to  make  her  life  bearable,  poor  thing!" 

Hugh  could  scarcely  believe  his  ears.  He  did  not  feel 
sure  that  he  was  not  even  rather  shocked. 

"I  am  afraid  I  can't  agree  with  you,"  said  he,  rather 
shortly.  "  I  think  his  attachment  is  a  most  unfortunate 
thing  for  both  of  them,  and  I'm  going  to  do  my  best  to  put 
an  end  to  it." 

Jem's  innocent  girl's  eyes  saw  one  thing  only  in  this 
view  of  the  matter. 

"You  are  jealous,"  said  she. 

Now,  this  accusation,  bold  and  unexpected,  annoyed 
Hugh  greatly.  It  hurt  his  self-love,  both  because  it  came 
from  the  mouth  of  a  charming  girl,  and  because  it  imputed 
to  him  a  motive  which  he  had  not  suspected.  He  rose,  and 
said,  with  the  least  possible  stiffness  in  his  tone,  that  he 
must  really  take  Gerard  away  before  the  milkman  came 
round.  Gerard,  who  had  finished  the  last  game  somewhat 
sleepily,  jumped  up  with  eagerness,  and  the  two  friends 
got  away  and  at  last  found  a  chance  of  being  alone. 


174  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

It  was  just  outside  the  gates  of  "  The  Firs"  that  they 
stood  for  a  few  minutes,  before  bidding  each  other  good- 
night. 

Gerard  was  rather  cold,  not  being  able  to  forgive  Hugh 
for  the  pain  the  latter  had  inflicted  on  Netelka,  and  for 
the  aspersions  which  he  had,  in  all  ignorance  as  to  her 
identity,  cast  upon  her.  Hugh  had  to  be  very  humble, 
very  apologetic,  very  persuasive. 

"  You  know,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  reasoned  gently,  "  she 
herself  said  I  was  right  in  my  conclusions,  although  I  ad- 
mit I  was  wrong,  terribly  wrong,  in  some  of  my  reasons. 
Don't  you  see  that  the  situation  is  really  worse  than  the 
one  I  imagined?  I  thought  there  was  only  one  victim, 
yourself.  Now  I  find  there  are  two,  you  and  she.  This 
rascal  who  has  married  her  uses  you  both  as  pieces  in  the 
game  he  is  playing :  I  am  sure  of  it.  Do  you  suppose  he 
doesn't  know  the  influence  his  wife  has  over  you?  Hasn't 
he  already  used  it  for  his  own  ends?  You  must  forgive  me 
for  asking  you  such  questions,  but  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary, for  her  sake  as  much  as  for  yours,  for  you  to  see  the 
thing  clearly.  You  must  see  that  it  can't  be  allowed  to 
go  on.  For  what  would  be  the  end?  Where  are  you  drift- 
ing to?" 

Now  these  were  the  very  questions  to  which  Gerard  was 
always  trying  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  when  they  cropped  up, 
unbidden,  in  his  own  mind.  So  that  when  they  were  ut- 
tered in  a  friend's  voice,  and  dinned  into  him  with  a 
steady  persistence  from  which  there  was  no  escape,  he 
naturally  grew  angry  and  restive. 

"  How  dare  you  talk  to  me  like  this?  What  right  have 
you?  What  do  you  mean  by  it?"  he  was  beginning, 
incoherent,  almost  inarticulate,  between  emotion  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  consciousness  of  a  weak  case  on  the 
other. 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  BROUGHAM.  175 

Hugh,  much  calmer  than  he,  broke  his  protests  short 
with  great  suddenness. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to  do,"  he  said  delib- 
erately. "  I'm  going  up  to-morrow  to  her  aunt,  Lady  Ken- 
slow.  I  knew  her  very  well  when  I  was  a  boy.  I'll  tell  her 
what  sort  of  man  this  Linley  Hilliard  is — tell  her  that  I 
saw  him  myself  cheating  at  cards — and  get  her  to  persuade 
Netelka  to  leave  him." 

Gerard  listened  doubtfully.  He  knew,  from  what  Netelka 
herself  had  told  him,  that  she  had  found  her  aunt  unsym- 
pathetic, and  he  knew  also  that  the  younger  lady's  notions 
of  wifely  duty  were  not  of  the  up-to-date  sort.  As  the  two 
men  stood  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  they  heard  the 
front  door  of  "  The  Firs"  open,  and  a  man's  footsteps  run- 
ning rapidly  to  the  gate. 

"Hilliard!"  whispered  Gerard. 

Hugh  started,  and  clinched  his  fist;  but  his  companion's 
hand  restrained  him. 

"Don't!"  whispered  the  younger  man,  pleadingly. 
"Kemember,  it's  he  who  has  to  pay  for  everything!" 

Hugh  ground  his  teeth. 

Meanwhile  a  brougham,  which  had  been  waiting  at  a  little 
distance,  came  up  and  stood  outside  the  gate.  A  moment 
later,  before  the  two  spectators  had  quite  realized  what 
was  being  done,  Linley  came  out  again,  half-carrying,  half- 
dragging  the  motionless  body  of  a  woman.  Opening  the 
door  of  the  brougham,  he  raised  his  burden  with  more  ease 
than  would  have  been  expected  from  a  man  of  his  fragile 
appearance,  and  thrust  it  into  the  carriage.  Then  he  told 
the  coachman  to  drive  on,  and  disappeared  into  the  grounds. 

Gerard  seized  Hugh's  arm. 

" Netelka !  "  whispered  he  hoarsely.     "  Is  she — dead?  " 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A  VOLUME  FROM  THE   LIBRARY. 

the  carriage  containing  Netelka  drove  away,  Ger- 
ard was  with  difficulty  prevented  by  Hugh  from  running 
after  it. 

"  I  must — I  must  see  if  she  is  all  right,"  said  the  younger 
man,  in  a  voice  which  shook  with  deep  feeling.  "You 
don't  know,  Thorndyke,  what  she  has  done  for  me,  what  I 
owe  to  her.  Let  me  go!  let  me  go!" 

As  the  brougham  had  by  this  time  gone  too  far  for  Ger- 
ard to  carry  out  his  intention  of  starting  in  pursuit,  Hugh 
released  him,  saying  at  the  same  time,  in  his  most  persuasive 
manner:  "  Look  here,  old  chap,  you  can't  do  anything  for 
her  like  that.  Remember,  that  rascal  is  her  husband " 

Gerard  interrupted  him  by  a  string  of  strong  epithets, 
applied  to  Linley,  which  would  only  have  amused  that  un- 
emotional gentleman. 

"  Come,"  said  Hugh,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to  do. 
I'm  going  to  see  Lady  Kenslow,  Netelka's  aunt,  and  I  shall 
persuade  her  to  take  the  poor  child  back  to  live  with  her. " 

"She  won't  go,"  said  Gerard  decidedly. 

"She  must,"  said  Hugh,  more  decidedly  still. 

"  In  the  mean  time,"  said  Gerard,  breaking  away  from  his 
companion  altogether,  "  I  shall  just  go  in  and  punch  Lin- 
ley's  miserable  head." 

Ultimately,  however,  Hugh's  wiser  councils  prevailed, 
and  Gerard  went  back  to  "  The  Firs"  and  straight  up  to  his 
room  without  putting  himself  in  Linley's  way. 

In  the  mean  time  Netelka's  husband  had  sauntered  into 


A  VOLUME  FROM  THE  LIBRARY.  177 

the  house,  after  getting  rid  of  his  wife,  and  had  gone  into 
the  dining-room  and  poured  himself  out  a  wineglassful  of 
brandy,  which  he  was  drinking  when  the  door  opened,  and 
Harrington  Moseley  followed  him  in. 

For  a  moment  there  was  dead  silence,  while  Linley  emp- 
tied his  wineglass  and  carefully  put  back  the  decanter.  A 
storm  was  brewing  between  the  two,  and  they  watched  each 
other — Moseley  openly,  Linley  without  appearing  to  do  so. 
The  Jew's  excitement  betrayed  itself  in  the  quivering  of 
the  muscles  of  his  face,  which  was  of  a  ghastly  pallor,  in 
his  quick  breathing,  in  the  rapidly  shifting  glances  of  his 
black  eyee. 

Linley  was  as  quiet,  as  cool,  as  dainty-deliberate  in  man- 
ner as  ever ;  and  it  was  only  by  a  certain  deepening  of  the 
lines  about  his  small,  straight  mouth  that  even  a  person 
who  knew  him  well  could  have  told  that  he  was  prepared 
for  a  struggle  of  wills. 

"What's  that  on  your  hand?"  asked  the  Jew,  suddenly, 
as  he  pointed  with  a  shaking  finger  to  some  small  red  spots 
on  Linley's  hands  and  on  one  of  his  cuffs. 

Linley  looked  down  and  considered  a  moment. 

"Ah!"  he  cried  at  last,  in  soft,  musical  tones,  "that 
was  my  wife's  fault!" 

Harrington  Moseley  gave  a  little  start  and  looked  up  in 
the  other's  face. 

"  What  were  you  doing  to  her?"  he  hissed  out,  in  a  low 
voice.  "Did  you — did  you  strike  her?" 

"  Well,  if  I  did,  that's  my  affair." 

"  Oh,  is  it,  by  Jove !"  cried  the  Jew,  now  violently  ex- 
cited, as  he  raised  his  fist  and  shook  it  in  Linley's  face. 
"  We'll  see  about  that.  I'm  not  very  particular  myself,  but 
there  are  some  things  I  can't  stand,  and  to  see  a  woman — 
especially  a  woman  like  your  wife — knocked  about  is  one  of 
them." 

13 


178  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Oh,  nonsense !"  said  Linley,  gently.  "  I  gave  her  a  push, 
that  was  all,  and  she  cut  her  cheek  against  my  ring.  It  was 
an  accident." 

"An  accident!"  roared  the  Jew. 

And  he  made  a  spring  at  Linley  and  seized  him  by  the 
collar.  Now  the  Jew,  although  short  and  rather  stout,  was 
a  man  of  such  sturdy  bnild  that  a  bystander  would  have 
thought  he  could  have  shaken  the  fragile-looking  Linley  as 
a  terrier  does  a  rat.  But  what  happened  was  this :  Linley 
put  out  two  delicate  white  hands  with  apparent  effort,  and 
Harrington  Moseley  found  himself  sitting  on  the  floor. 

"And  that's  an  accident,  if  you  like,"  said  Linley,  quite 
coolly  still. 

It  took  Harrington  Moseley  a  few  moments  to  recover 
from  his  astonishment. 

"You  little  white-skinned  devil!"  said  he  at  last,  as  he 
got  up,  and  passed  his  hands  carefully  over  himself  to  see  if 
he  had  broken  any  bones  in  his  fall.  Linley  laughed  shortly. 

"You  shouldn't  do  these  things,"  he  said  mildly.  "I 
don't  want  to  fight,  as  the  song  says,  but,  by  jingo,  if  I  do, 
etc.,  etc.  And  it's  the  same  with  other  things  as  with 
fighting:  I  am  unfortunate  sometimes,  as  I  had  been  when 
you  first  met  me ;  but  I  generally  get  my  own  way  in  the 
end." 

Mr.  Moseley  affected  to  laugh  boisterously.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  he  was  at  heart  afraid  of  his  companion,  whose 
cold  eyes  had  for  his  own  the  attraction  of  the  basilisk.  He 
did  not,  however,  give  up  his  point. 

"  What  was  the  row  with  your  wife?  And  where  have 
you  sent  her  away  to?"  asked  the  Jew,  doggedly. 

"Oh,"  said  Linley  carelessly,  "the  row,  as  you  call  it, 
was  the  old  one,  that  she  will  ask  unnecessary  questions, 
and  say  things  which  no  wife  ought  to  say  to  her  husband. 
I  told  her  so,"  he  went  on  in  an  aggrieved  tone.  "  She  had 


A   VOLUME  FROM  THE  LIBRARY.  179 

found  out  that  young  Waller  had  insured  his  life;  and  al- 
though I  told  her  that  it  was  your  business,  and  not  mine, 
and  that  it  was  as  a  security  for  the  money  you  were  lend- 
ing him,  she  became  noisy  and  unpleasant,  so  that  I  really 
thought  the  servants  would  hear  and  come  in.  And  if 
there's  one  thing  I  hate  more  than  another,  it  is  a  domestic 
scene  in  the  presence  of  the  housemaid  and  the  cook.  It's 
very  bad  form,  as  I  told  her." 

Linley  was  pottering  about,  looking  first  for  a  cigarette, 
and  then  for  a  match,  with  the  air  of  one  who  just  fills  up 
his  time  with  idle  chatter. 

The  Jew  was  staring  at  him  with  all  his  eyes.  Moseley 
was  generally  accounted  a  cool  hand  himself,  but  he  felt 
beside  Linley  like  a  cockle-shell  beside  an  ironclad,  and 
even  with  his  disgust  at  some  of  the  methods  of  his  partner 
in  rascality  there  mingled  a  large  amount  of  admiration. 

«  You— told— her— that?" 

"  Of  course  I  did.  And  when  she  went  on  crying  all  the 
same,  and  saying  that  her  heart  was  breaking  and  that  she 
must  go  away  because  she  couldn't  bear  it,  I  told  her  she 
could  go  away.  So  I  asked  young  Northesk  to  lend  me  his 
brougham,  and  I  packed  my  wife  off  at  once  to  the  house 
of  a  friend  of  mine  up  in  town,  who  will  see  her  off  to 
Bournemouth  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Bournemouth !     Why  Bournemouth?" 

"  Oh,  Bournemouth's  a  capital  place  for  invalids." 

"  But  Mrs.  Hilliard  is  not  an  invalid!" 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Linley,  as  he  took  out 
of  his  pocket  an  amber  mouthpiece  decorated  with  a  fern 
leaf  with  diamonds,  and  looked  at  it  affectionately  before 
fitting  into  a  cigarette.  "  She's  not  very  strong.  I  don't 
think  she  is  what  an  insurance  office  would  call  a  good  life." 

For  a  moment  Harrington  Moseley  stared  at  him  with  a 
sort  of  horror.  Then  he  asked  in  a  hoarse  voice: 


180  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Have  you  insured  her  life  too?" 

"Not  yet,"  answered  Linley,  with  composure. 

"Then,  by  heavens,  Hilliard,  if  you  do,"  broke  in  the 
Jew  quickly,  "  I'll— I'll  blow  the  gaff,  I'll " 

"Cut  your  own  throat  in  order  to  cut  mine,"  finished 
Linley  quietly.  "  Come,  dear  boy,  do  be  reasonable.  When 
we  agreed  to  set  up  in  business  together  here,  with  the  idea 
of  being  mutually  useful,  we  thought  that  my  wife  was  go- 
ing to  be  a  great  help,  didn't  we?" 

"  Well,  so  she  has  been.  She's  given  the  place  just  the 
air  we  wanted — /  wanted — of  being  a  gentleman's  private 
residence,  and  not  what  rude  people  call  a  gambling-hell. 
And  she  got  hold  of  Waller  and  made  him  turn  over  a  new 
leaf,  when  if  he'd  kept  on  at  the  old  pace  he'd  have  died 
before  his  father,  and  I  should  have  lost  my  money.  And 
— and  that  isn't  all  she's  done  for  us  through  him,"  added 
he  with  discreet  reticence. 

"  Well,"  said  Linley,  as  he  pretended  to  stifle  a  yawn,  as 
a  hint  to  his  companion  that  the  conversation  was  begin- 
ning to  bore  him,  "  she's  done  all  for  us  that  she  intends  to 
do,  and  the  question  now  is  how  to  prevent  her  working 
against  us.  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  the  reason  I  sent 
her  away  so  abruptly  was  that  she  threatened  to  put  Wal- 
ler on  his  guard." 

"  And  what  would  that  matter?"  asked  the  Jew  hastily. 
"  We're  not  going  to  do  him  any  harm.  As  for  the  insur- 
ance on  his  life,  it  is  a  mere  matter  of  business  to  secure 
one's  self  against  accidents!" 

"So  I  told  her,"  answered  Linley  imperturbably.  "But 
— you  know  how  obstinate  women  are — she  persists  in  sus- 
pecting us — you  and  me — of  plots  and  designs  which  never 
entered  our  heads.  Now,"  and  he  cast  an  inquisitive  glance 
at  the  other,  "  don't  you  see  that  it  was  better  to  send  fcer 
away?" 


A   VOLUME  FROM  THE  LIBRARY.  181 

The  Jew  mumbled  some  sort  of  grumbling  assent,  but  he 
threw  suspicious  glances  at  Linley,  who  yawned,  stretched 
out  one  arm  lazily,  and  observed  that  it  must  be  getting 
late. 

"Early,"  said  Moseley  laconically,  as  he  looked  at  the 
clock.  "  It's  nearly  four  o'clock." 

"Are  they  all  gone?"  asked  Linley. 

The  Jew  frowned. 

"  Yes.  We  broke  up  early  to-night.  That  confounded 
fellow  Thorndyke  upset  everything.  I  never  came  across 
such  a  wet-blanket :  all  the  spirit  seemed  to  go  out  of  the 
game  as  soon  as  he  came  near  the  table.  He  has  got  the 
evil-eye,  I  believe,  that  fellow!  Shan't  come  here  again." 

Linley  was  frowning  too. 

"  You'll  have  hard  work  to  keep  him  out,"  said  he  decid- 
edly. "  He's  a  brute.  It  turns  out  that  he's  an  old  sweet- 
heart of  my  wife's,  and  I  found  him  making  love  to  her, 
or  the  next  thing  to  it,  when  I  came  downstairs.  It  was  he 
who  made  all  the  mischief.  As  a  careful  husband,"  went 
on  Linley,  with  deliberation,  "  I  shall  consider  it  my  duty 
to  forbid  him  the  house  for  the  future. " 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Mr.  Moseley  with  a  grin,  as  he  nodded 
good  night,  and  went  upstairs. 

He  had  scarcely  left  the  room  when  the  languor  dropped 
from  Linley's  manner,  and  he  became  as  alert  and  lively  as 
a  bird. 

Crossing  quickly  to  the  door,  he  listened  until  Moseley 's 
footsteps  had  become  inaudible  on  the  stairs,  and  then, 
with  a  face  in  which  at  last  there  was  a  gleam  of  real  ex- 
citement, he  softly  opened  the  door,  stepped  outside,  shut  it 
after  him,  and  glided  softly  through  the  hall  in  the  dark- 
ness until  he  reached  the  door  of  the  library.  Here  he  put 
his  hand  upon  the  key,  which  was  in  the  lock,  and  then 
waited  one  more  moment,  just  to  make  sure  that  no  one 


182  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

was  about.     Then  he  unlocked  the  door,  stepped  into  the 
room,  and  shut  it  softly  behind  him. 

He  knew  the  way  to  where  the  matches  were  kept — Linley 
always  knew  the  way  to  everything — and  he  lit  the  gas,  and 
began  to  hunt  among  the  books  on  the  shelves.  The  library 
was  a  very  complete  one,  having  been  bought  by  Moseley, 
with  the  house,  from  the  executors  of  a  retired  physician, 
a  man  of  wide  reading,  taste,  and  knowledge.  Linley 
hunted  long  before  he  found  what  he  wanted :  volumes  of 
history,  calf -bound,  dignified;  rows  of  poets,  sombrely 
brilliant  in  morocco  and  gold;  a  stately  array  of  standard 
novels ;  tomes  of  sermons,  whose  very  outward  appearance 
was  improving :  all  these  and  many  more  Linley  passed  and 
rejected,  until  at  last,  with  a  gentle  sigh,  he  came  to  a  shelf 
containing  medical  works. 

Linley's  eyes  seemed  to  dilate ;  his  hand  clutched  trem- 
ulously at  the  air  in  eager  expectancy,  until  at  length  a 
soft  exclamation  broke  from  his  lips,  and  his  eager  hands 
closed  upon  a  modest  little  volume  which  he  tore  quickly 
from  the  shelf. 

The  title  of  the  book  was :  "  Symptoms,  Treatment,  and 
Detection  of  Poisons." 

Linley  carried  the  book  to  a  table  under  the  gas,  and  read 
long  and  attentively,  making  notes  as  he  went,  in  a  cipher 
of  his  own,  on  an  old  envelope  he  took  from  his  pocket. 
He  read  so  long,  and  studied  so  attentively,  that  the  ser- 
vants were  moving  about  the  house  at  their  morning's  work 
before  he  tired  of  his  engrossing  occupation.  At  the  first 
sound  outside,  he  did  not  start,  but  he  looked  up,  with  a 
curious  smile  on  his  lips.  Then  he  rose,  turned  out  the  gas, 
and  seized  his  opportunity  to  escape  up  to  his  room  unseen. 

On  his  way  he  stopped,  just  for  one  second,  outside  the 
door  of  Gerard's  bedroom,  and  the  pleasant  smile  on  his  lips 
grew  just  a  little  broader  as  he  did  so. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

JEM   CLIMBS  A  TREE. 

GERARD,  who  had  been  awake  all  night,  thought  that  at 
breakfast  time  he  should  have  the  opportunity  to  ask  Lin- 
ley  what  had  become  of  Netelka.  But  he  was  disappointed ; 
for  he  had  to  breakfast  bj  himself,  and  was  told  by  the  par- 
lor-maid that  Mrs.  Hilliard  had  gone  away  unexpectedly 
on  the  previous  night,  and  that  Mr.  Hilliard  was  not  well 
enough  to  come  downstairs. 

Gerard  had  fretted  himself  into  such  a  fever  of  anxiety 
by  luncheon  time  that  he  insisted  on  seeing  Linley,  who 
received  him  in  his  wife's  boudoir,  arrayed  in  a  pretty 
dressing-gown  of  Chinese  embroidered  silk.  He  was  en- 
joying a  light  luncheon  of  the  wing  of  a  chicken,  foie  gras, 
and  champagne,  and  he  held  out  his  hand  to  Gerard  with 
the  languid  air  of  a  convalescent. 

"How  are  you,  Waller?"  said  he  amiably,  turning  again 
to  his  chicken.  "I  hope  you'll  excuse  my  leaving  you  to 
lunch  by  yourself.  I  will  try  to  be  down  by  dinner  time. 
But  really  I  had  such  a  scene  with  my  wife  last  night  that 
I  feel  quite  upset  to-day,  and  if  I  had  come  down  I  should 
only  have  been  a  nuisance.  Married  men  must  put  up  with 
these  storms  now  and  then,  I  suppose :  but  they  are  very 
trying,  very  trying." 

And  he  helped  himself  to  more  champange. 

"  You've  had  your  luncheon,  I  suppose?"  he  added,  hold- 
ing up  the  bottle  with  a  perfunctory  half-invitation. 

"  I've  had  all  I  wanted,  thank  you,"  said  Gerard  shortly. 


184  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  I  came  to  ask  about  Mrs.  Hilliard.    Where's  she  gone  to?" 

Linley  spoke  with  his  mouth  full. 

"  She's  gone  down  to  Bournemouth  for  a  few  days,  just 
for  a  change,  and  to  annoy  me.  We  had  a  row  last  night, 
as  I  told  you.  So,  knowing  that  I  can't  get  on  without 
her,"  pursued  he,  "she's  taken  herself  off,  without  consult- 
ing me,  without  a  moment's  warning." 

"I  saw  her  go,"  said  Gerard,  frigidly. 

"  Did  you  ?  I  packed  her  off  in  young  Northesk's  brough- 
am. When  I  found  she  was  determined  to  go,  I  did  my  best 
to  make  her  go  comfortably." 

"She  seemed  ill,"  said  Gerard  in  a  voice  which  was  not 
quite  steady. 

"  Yes.  It  was  all  the  fault  of  that  cad  Thorndyke.  If 
he  comes  here  again,  trying  to  make  mischief  between  hus- 
band and  wife,  I  shall  have  to  throw  him  down  the  steps." 

There  was  a  silence,  which  Gerard  felt  to  be  an  awkward 
one.  The  young  fellow  was  feeling  daily  into  what  a  miser- 
able position  he  was  being  forced  by  this  contemptible  hus- 
band of  a  womanly  and  loving  woman.  The  danger  was 
increasing  daily,  and  here  at  last  was  the  opportunity  of 
making  his  escape  from  peril.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
Gerard's  opinion  of  Linley  was  so  low  that  he  believed,  and 
not  without  reason,  that  his  own  presence  in  the  house  saved 
Netelka  from  that  desertion  by  her  husband  which  she 
dreaded. 

"  I  suppose  she'll  be  back  again — in  a  day  or  two?"  sug- 
gested Gerard. 

"  Oh,  yes,  no  doubt  she  will.  I  give  her  until  Sunday  to 
come  round,"  said  Linley,  composedly.  "  In  the  mean  time, 
don't  worry  yourself.  I  dare  say  you'll  miss  her  nearly  as 
much  as  I  do  myself;  but  I  don't  mean  to  give  way  to  low 
spirits :  it  will  make  her  so  conceited.  Come  up  to  town 
with  me  to-night,  and  we'll  go  to  the  Empire  together, 


JEM  CLIMBS  A  TREE.  185 

and  then  on  to  Moseley's  chambers  for  some  supper  after- 
ward." 

"  No,  thanks,"  said  Gerard,  rising.  "  I've  got  an  ap- 
pointment this  evening." 

And  he  left  the  room,  more  disgusted  than  ever  with 
Linley.  He  didn't  want  to  go  to  the  Empire  or  anywhere 
else  with  him,  and  it  was  quite  true  that  he  had  an  appoint- 
ment, for  he  had  arranged  to  meet  Hugh  Thorndyke  and 
to  dine  with  him  in  town. 

Hugh  had  lost  no  time  in  calling  upon  Lady  Kenslow 
and  in  making  known  to  her  his  belief  that  Linley  was  no 
better  than  a  swindler  and  card- sharper.  But  he  found  the 
placid  and  charming  elderly  lady  very  difficult  to  move. 
The  fact  was  that  Lady  Kenslow,  who  knew  all  about  Lin- 
ley's  career  under  the  name  of  Dax,  was  much  better  in- 
formed than  Hugh  himself,  and  not  in  the  least  likely  to 
be  surprised  at  any  fresh  development  of  this  sort.  She 
affected  incredulity  as  to  the  card-sharping,  advised  Hugh 
not  to  say  anything  about  it  to  anybody,  and  pointed  out 
to  him  that  if  Netelka  really  wanted  her  protection  no  one 
could  prevent  her  from  making  use  of  the  penny-post  to  tell 
her  so. 

"  You  say  she  was  driven  away  from  the  house  late  last 
night  in  a  brougham ;  that  she  seemed  insensible ;  that  you 
could  hardly  tell  whether  she  was  alive  or  dead ;  that  her 
husband  put  her  into  the  brougham  himself.  Well,  there 
was  some  reason  for  what  looked  like  a  strange  action,  you 
may  be  quite  sure.  In  the  first  place,  people  don't  pack 
the  dead  bodies  of  their  wives  into  broughams  and 
send  them  away  to  nowhere  in  particular  in  the  dead  of 
night.  In  the  second  place,  Netelka  is  an  intelligent 
woman,  able  to  take  care  of  herself.  You  may  be  quite 
sure  we  shall  have  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  mystery 
in  a  day  or  two.  Linley  Hilliard  may  not  be  all  one  could 


186  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

wish  as  a  husband,  but  he  must  be  proud  of  her,  and  I 
don't  think  he  would  like  her  to  come  to  any  harm." 

And  then  Lady  Kenslow  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  the 
new  piece  at  the  Haymarket,  in  a  tone  which  showed  that 
she  considered  the  former  subject  sufficiently  threshed 
out. 

Of  course  Hugh  thought  her  heartless,  but  he  was  wrong. 
A  kindly,  amiable  woman  of  the  world,  Lady  Kenslow 
deeply  deplored  the  unhappy  marriage  her  niece  had  made, 
and  forbore  to  cast  in  Netelka's  teeth  the  fact  that  she  had 
strongly  opposed  it.  But  she  held  that  the  tie  of  marriage, 
once  formed,  should  be  respected  not  only  on  moral  and  relig- 
ious grounds,  but  on  those  of  common-sense  and  conveni- 
ence. She  argued  that  a  married  woman,  fond,  as  Netelka 
was,  of  dress,  of  amusement,  and  of  society,  would  be  exposed 
to  worse  perils  living  apart  from  her  husband  than  she  could 
ever  encounter  while  under  his  roof.  So  she  was  resolved 
to  shut  her  eyes  as  long  as  possible  to  Linley's  defects,  as 
she  had  advised  her  niece  to  do.  A  second  scandal,  even 
under  another  name,  would,  she  knew,  be  fatal,  since  the 
old  story  would  inevitably  leak  out. 

Hugh  left  Lady  Kenslow's  house  heartsick  and  disap- 
pointed. He  and  Gerard  compared  notes  that  evening,  but 
found  little  comfort.  Hugh  tried  to  persuade  Gerard  to 
leave  "  The  Firs,"  warning  him  gently  that  no  good  could 
come  to  anybody  from  interference  between  even  a  bad  hus- 
band and  his  wife.  And  Gerard,  reluctantly  assenting, 
promised  to  give  up  his  quarters  as  soon  as  Netelka  should 
come  back — not  before.  For  he  feared  that,  if  he  were 
to  leave  the  house  without  due  warning  that  his  remunera- 
tive stay  was  coming  to  an  end,  Linley  might  punish  him 
by  preventing  him  from  seeing  Netelka  again. 

Nearly  a  week  passed  quietly  at "  The  Firs,"  during  which 
Linley  professed  to  hear  from  his  wife  that  she  was  enjoying 


JEM  CLIMBS  A  TREE.  187 

her  stay  at  the  seaside,  and  that  she  was  improving  a  little 
in  health.  But  Linley  shook  his  head  as  he  said  this. 

"I'm  afraid  she's  worse  than  she  thinks,"  he  said.  "I 
shall  run  down  and  see  her  on  Saturday.  If  the  place  is 
really  doing  her  good,  I  shall  advise  her  to  stay  down  there 
another  week:  if  not,  I  shall  bring  her  back  at  once." 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  her?"  asked  Gerard  in  sur- 
prise, while  the  deep  anxiety  he  suddenly  felt  made  his  face 
grow  very  white.  "  She  seemed  quite  well  on  the  morning 
of  the  day  she  went  away!" 

Linley  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  You  think  she's  well  because  she  is  always  ready  to 
laugh,  except  when  she  is  in  the  lowest  of  low  spirits.  But 
I've  noticed  a  great  change  in  her  myself  lately,  and  to  tell 
you  the  truth,  I'm  afraid  of  consumption.  It's  in  her 
family,  I  know." 

Gerard  started,  but  the  great  fear  which  he  felt  at  his 
heart  he  did  not  express  in  words.  He  left  the  room  sud- 
denly, while  Linley,  always  observant,  stole  at  him  a  glance 
of  acute  satisfaction.  Then  he  went  upstairs  with  the  air 
of  a  man  who  has  business  of  importance  on  hand,  and  en- 
tering his  wife's  bedroom,  he  softly  locked  the  door. 

On  the  same  afternoon  Hugh  Thorndyke,  not  daring  to 
call  at  "  The  Firs"  himself  to  see  Gerard  and  to  find  out 
whether  there  was  any  news  of  Netelka,  bethought  him- 
self of  "  Maisonette"  and  the  pretty  girl  who  lived  there, 
and  called  in  the  afternoon. 

The  moment  the  maid  announced  him  in  the  drawing- 
room,  Jem,  who  was  sitting  near  the  window,  busy  with  her 
hated  and  never-ending  task  of  mending  the  children's 
clothes,  sprang  up  from  her  chair  with  an  exclamation,  and 
throwing  the  little  pinafore,  with  the  needle  sticking  in  it, 
down  on  the  floor,  dashed  out  onto  the  little  green  balcony, 
and  made  her  escape  into  the  adjoining  room,  which  was 


188  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

her  father's  dressing-room.  Mrs.  Collingham,  aghast  at 
this  heathenish  behavior,  called  after  her,  but  in  vain.  By 
the  time  Mr.  Thorndyke  was  in  the  drawing-room  the  rep- 
robate Jem  had  slipped  behind  his  back  down  the  stairs 
and  out  into  the  garden. 

Ever  since  she  had  learned  from  Gerard,  in  a  short  collo- 
quy over  the  garden  wall,  of  Netelka's  disappearance,  the 
girl  had  been  in  a  state  of  misery  piteous  to  see,  imagining 
every  sort  of  harm  to  her  friend,  and  depressing  the  whole 
household  by  her  dismal  looks.  She  had  jumped  to  the  con- 
clusion that  it  was  Hugh  Thorndyke's  interference  which 
had  caused  the  rupture — for  a  rupture  there  must  have  been 
between  the  husband  and  wife,  and  she  had  conceived,  in 
consequence,  against  that  gentleman  the  violent  anger  of 
a  partisan. 

So  she  would  not  meet  him. 

The  question  was  how,  effectually,  to  avoid  being  brought 
back  and  forced  in  his  presence  against  her  will.  The 
mischievous  delight  of  the  overgrown  tomboy  suddenly 
gleamed  in  her  eyes. 

" I  can  climb  my  tree!"  she  said  to  herself. 

This  was  a  joy  which  had  been  reluctantly  given  up  some 
time  before  this ;  but  the  tree  was  still  there,  hidden  from 
the  house  by  an  evergreen  oak,  and  its  crooked  bough  looked 
as  inviting  as  ever.  Here,  however  diligently  they  might 
hunt  for  her,  Jem  felt  that  she  would  be  safe :  even  if  dis- 
covered, she  would  be  severely  left  alone  if  caught  in  such 
an  undignified  position.  So  she  got  through  the  evergreens, 
and  easily  hoisted  herself  into  a  very  snug  perch  between 
the  forked  boughs  of  an  old  apple  tree,  the  branches  of 
which  extended  far  over  the  wall  which  divided  the  garden 
of  "  Maisonette"  from  that  of  "  The  Firs." 

Jem  became  suddenly  conscious,  with  some  surprise  and 
embarrassment,  that  her  view  of  her  neighbor's  domain 


JEM  CLIMBS  A  TREE.  189 

was  more  extensive  than  she  had  remembered  it  to  be.  She 
found  herself  looking  straight  into  the  room  into  which  Lin- 
ley  Hilliard  had  locked  himself. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  thought  Jem. 

And  she  was  about  to  descend  by  the  way  she  had  come 
when  her  attention  was  arrested  by  an  action  on  Linley's 
part  so  strange,  so  suspicious,  that  she  hung  for  a  moment, 
with  one  foot  resting  on  the  bough  below,  staring  at  him — 
fascinated,  bewildered — with  all  her  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

JEM'S   ADVENTURE. 

THE  sight  which  so  much  astonished  Jem,  and  caused 
her  to  be  so  forgetful  of  propriety  as  to  pause  a  moment 
to  take  in  all  its  details,  was  indeed  a  strange  one. 

Linley  Hilliard  was  standing  close  to  the  bedroom  win- 
dow, so  that  he  might  get  the  full  advantage  of  the  fading 
daylight.  One  after  the  other  he  snatched  up  rapidly  the 
following  articles,  examined  them  with  one  keen  glance, 
and  then  thrust  them  into  his  Gladstone  bag:  a  lady's 
gown,  a  mantle,  a  hat  which  Jem  was  able  to  recognize  as 
Netelka's,  and  a  thick  black  veil. 

When  he  had  thrust  all  these  things  into  the  bag,  which 
he  locked,  he  disappeared  quickly  into  the  darkness  away 
from  the  window. 

Almost  before  this,  however,  Jem's  feet  had  reached  the 
ground,  and  she  was  flying  through  the  evergreens  with  a 
velocity  which  made  the  sudden  contact  of  her  person  with 
that  of  Hugh  Thorndyke  a  rather  serious  affair. 

"I — I  had  been  sent  into  the  garden  to  look  for  you," 
explained  Hugh  meekly,  as  he  retired  from  the  encounter 
with  profuse  apologies  for  her  fault.  "  And  I've  been 
round  and  round  several  times,  but  I  couldn't  find  you." 

Jem  blushed  a  bright  crimson,  fidgeting  like  a  shy 
schoolgirl. 

"  I  was — I  was — "  then  with  a  sudden  burst  of  daring 
frankness:  "  I  was  up  a  tree." 

"  Up  a — up  a  tree?  "  exclaimed  Hugh,  in  unaffected  sur- 
prise. 


JEM'S  ADVENTURE.  191 

"Yes.  It's  no  nse  being  shocked,  Mr.  Thorndyke; 
people  who  have  the  privilege  of  knowing  me  have  to  get 
used  to  these  things." 

She  wanted  to  get  away,  but  Hugh  would  not  let 
her.  He  was  rather  piqued  by  the  change  which  had 
come  into  her  manner  since  their  preceding  and  most 
friendly  interview,  and  he  was  curious  to  know  the  reason 
of  the  excitement  which  burned  in  the  girl's  cheeks  and 
eyes. 

"  Won't  you  show  me  the — the — the " 

He  had  begun  with  the  intention  of  finishing  with  the 
word  flowers,  but  the  desolate  appearance  of  the  neglected 
borders  made  him  suddenly  hesitate. 

"  Yes,  I  can  show  you  the  weeds,  if  you  like,"  said  Jem, 
gravely.  "  I  sowed  a  packet  of  poppy-seed,  and  another  of 
wallflowers,  and  another  of  something  that  I  couldn't 
pronounce;  but  they  haven't  come  up  yet,  and  I  don't 
suppose  they  ever  will.  The  principal  productions  of  these 
grounds,"  she  went  on,  with  a  comprehensive  wave  of  the 
hands,  "are  cats  and  stray  marbles." 

She  was  speaking  very  rapidly,  and  under  the  influence 
of  intense  excitement  she  had  lost  some  of  her  shyness. 
Hugh  looked  at  her  with  interest  and  wished  he  dared  ask 
the  cause. 

"I  am  afraid,"  he  suggested,  in  the  pause  that  followed 
her  words,  "  that  you  want  to  get  rid  of  me." 

Now,  to  hear  her  thoughts  thus  openly  expressed  in  words 
was  too  much  for  poor  Jem's  courtesy.  Turning  quickly 
to  him,  she  panted  out  eagerly: 

"I  do;  oh,  I  do!  At  least — I  mean — of  course  I  don't 
mean  that.  I  ought  to  have  said  that — that " 

Hugh  laughed  gently  at  her  discomfiture.  He  spoke 
to  her  as  if  she  had  been  a  child. 

"Look  here,"  said  he,  "you  and  I  are  very  good  friends, 


192  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

aren't  we?  At  least,  we  were  last  time  we  mat,  were  we 
not?  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Jem  rather  shortly. 

"So  that  we  needn't  make-believe,"  he  went  on.  "If 
you  want  me  to  go,  I'll  make  an  appointment  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment  to  take  me  away.  All  I  ask  in  return  is  that 
you  shall  tell  me  whether  I  have  offended  you." 

Jem  was  strung  up,  and  in  the  mood  to  say  too  much 
instead  of  being  in  her  more  usual  mood  of  saying  too  little. 

"Yes,  you  have  offended  me,"  she  answered  promptly, 
looking  up  into  his  face  with  a  great  air  of  defiance  and 
animosity.  "  I  am  very  angry  with  you.  It  was  you  who 
caused  the  quarrel  between  Mrs.  Hilliard  and  her  husband. 
There,  you  said  I  might  go  if  I  told  you  whether  you 
had  offended  me.  So  good-by." 

Before  Hugh  could  get  farther  than  "But,  Miss  Col- 
lingham — "  Jem  was  in  the  house.  He  went  back  to  the 
drawing-room,  therefore,  and  told  an  innocent  tarradiddle 
on  Jem's  behalf  by  professing  to  have  "missed  her";  a 
statement  which  was  received  with  surprise,  as  the  modest 
quarter-acre  of  ground  belonging  to  "  Maisonette"  did  not 
seem  to  favor  such  a  circumstance. 

Mrs.  Collingham  was  annoyed.  She  had  sent  Hugh  in 
search  of  Jem  in  pursuance  of  her  plan  for  "  getting  her 
stepdaughter  off;"  and  this  little  failure  showed  that  there 
was  a  hitch  somewhere  in  her  arrangements.  Hugh  per- 
ceived that  something  had  gone  wrong,  and  he  hastened  to 
take  his  leave,  more  annoyed  than  he  would  have  cared  to 
admit  by  the  cavalier  treatment  he  had  received  at  the 
hands  of  the  young  girl. 

As  he  could  not  call  at  "  The  Firs"  to  see  Gerard  after 
the  treatment  he  had  received  from  its  nominal  master, 
there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  to  return  to  the  sta- 
tion, to  catch  the  next  train  back  to  Waterloo. 


JEM'S  ADVENTURE.  193 

He  was  sauntering  along  the  platform,  not  in  the  best  of 
tempers,  when  he  perceived,  a  little  way  ahead  of  him  on 
the  same  platform,  the  very  person  the  sight  of  whom  was 
the  least  likely  to  restore  his  amiability.  This  was  Linley 
Billiard,  and  he  carried  in  his  hand  a  Gladstone  bag. 

Hugh  stopped  short,  and  turned  back  into  the  station. 
He  rather  thought,  so  greatly  did  he  dislike  this  man,  that 
he  would  take  a  walk  and  go  up  to  town  by  the  next  train 
to  avoid  the  possibility  of  coming  in  contact  with  him. 

He  had  scarcely  got  within  the  doors  of  the  building 
when,  for  the  second  time  within  an  hour,  he  found  him- 
self face  to  face  with  the  whirlwind  Jem.  Her  face  was 
aglow ;  she  was  breathless,  panting,  and  her  hair,  as  usual, 
had  been  blown  down  into  her  eyes. 

With  her  usual  girlish  awkwardness,  instead  of  passing 
on  with  a  smile  and  a  slight  bend  of  the  head,  to  indicate 
that  she  wished  to  be  left  undisturbed,  Jem  stopped 
abruptly,  and  exclaimed,  "  Oh !  "  in  a  tone  of  unmistak- 
able dismay. 

Hugh,  though  rather  nettled  by  her  behavior,  could  not 
help  smiling.  Jem  blushed,  angry  with  herself  for  her 
stupidity. 

"  You  are  going  up  to  town?"  asked  Hugh.  "  Can  I  get 
your  ticket,  or  do  anything  for  you?" 

"N — no,  thank — you,"  said  Jem  quickly.  "I — I  am 
not  going  far."  Then,  perceiving  that  her  manner  was 
abrupt  to  the  verge  of  rudeness,  and  that  her  companion 
seemed  hurt  by  it,  she  said,  "  Are  you  going  back  to  town 
by  this  train?" 

"  I  was,"  he  answered.  "  But  I  have  changed  my  mind, 
as  there  is  some  one  on  the  platform  I  don't  wish  to  risk 
meeting." 

To  Hugh's  intense  surprise,  her  face  lighted  up. 

"Mr.  Hilliard?"she  asked,  quite  eagerly. 
13 


194  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Y — yes,"  stammered  Hugh. 

"Oh,  thank  you!"  She  seemed  much  relieved;  and, 
with  an  apology,  she  left  Hugh  and  hurried  to  the  book- 
ing-office, while  he  watched  her  rapid  movements  with  sud- 
den anxiety. 

What  had  this  innocent  young  girl  to  do  with  that  de- 
testable little  card-sharper?  Hugh  was  resolved,  for  Jem's 
sake,  to  know.  So  at  the  risk  of  a  severe  snub,  he  ad- 
dressed her  again  as  she  turned  away  from  the  booking- 
office,  ticket  in  hand. 

"  Miss  Collingham,  please  forgive  me  if  you  think  my 
curiosity  impertinent;  but  has  Mr.  Hilliard  offered  to  take 
you  to  see  his  wife?"  Hugh  thought  he  had  made  a 
rather  shrewd  guess,  but  Jem's  eyes  opened  wide  in  indig- 
nant astonishment. 

"No,"  she  answered  sharply.  "I  don't  like  him  well 
enough  to  ask  him  to  do  such  a  thing,  or  to  ask  him  any- 
thing if  I  could  help  it." 

Hugh  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  Still  he  was  curious  and 
rather  anxious.  Jem,  observing  this,  thought  she  had 
better  confide  in  him,  to  some  extent  at  least. 

"  I  don't  want  him  to  see  me,"  she  whispered  in  a  tone 
of  some  importance.  "  I'm  following  him — I  want  to  see 
where  he's  going  to."  Seeing  the  not  unnatural  astonish- 
ment on  Hugh's  face,  and  thinking  he  might  perhaps  be 
persuaded  into  a  valuable  ally,  she  went  on  rapidly :  "  He's 
got  a  bag  with  him,  hasn't  he?" 

"  I — I  think  he  has,"  stammered  Hugh,  taken  aback. 

"It's  full  of  Netelka's  clothes,"  hissed  Jem,  earnestly. 
"  And  I  want  to  see  where  he's  going  to  take  them  to ! " 

This  rather  sensational  statement,  made,  as  it  was,  in  a 
very  sensational  manner,  startled  Hugh,  although  he  was 
not  inclined  to  take  so  tragic  a  view  of  the  circumstance  as 
the  girl  did.  At  this  moment  the  train  came  in,  and  he 


JEM'S  ADVENTURE.  195 

hurried  with  her  to  a  compartment.  But  as  they  had  a 
carriageful  of  passengers  all  the  way  up  to  town,  they  were 
not  able  to  hold  further  conversation  upon  the  matter  in 
hand  until  they  got  out  at  Waterloo. 

"You  are  not  going  to  follow  him — to  play  the  spy, 
surely?"  cried  Hugh  aghast,  as  Jem,  having  kept  hidden 
in  the  crowd  until  Linley  had  got  into  a  hansom,  hailed  one 
in  her  turn. 

"  Yes,  but  I  am,  though !"  said  she,  with  spirit.  And 
before  he  had  recovered  from  the  stupefaction  into  which 
he  was  thrown  by  this  answer  she  had  jumped  in  and  was 
telling  the  driver  to  follow  the  hansom  which  had  just  gone 
out  of  the  station. 

"Well,  if  you  will  go,"  wailed  Hugh,  plaintively,  "of 
course  I  must  go  with  you.  But  I  hadn't  any  idea  you 
were  so  headstrong." 

And  he  jumped  into  the  hansom  and  took  his  seat  beside 
her. 

"  Why,"  cried  she,  turning  upon  him  with  flashing  eyes, 
"  could  I  do  any  less  when  I  don't  know  what  has  become 
of  her?  " 

"You  are  very  brave,"  said  Hugh,  smiling  at  her  pretty 
vehemence,  "very  brave  and  very  loyal.  But  you  must 
take  care  that  your  zeal  doesn't  outrun  your  discretion." 

"  My  discretion  can't  be  outrun,"  answered  Jem  simply, 
"because  I  haven't  got  any.  Now,  it  seems  to  me,"  she 
went  on  rashly,  "  that  you  are  all  discretion  and  no  zeal. 
And  yet  you  say  you  are  fond  of  her !" 

"  I  said  I  had  been  fond  of  her  before  she  was  married ! " 
corrected  Hugh,  rather  shocked  by  the  form  taken  by  the 
young  lady's  statement. 

"Well,  you  can't  have  lost  all  interest  in  her  the  mo- 
ment you  knew  that  she  was  married — so  that  you  don't 
even  care  to  know  what  has  become  of  her!  I  shouldn't 


196  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

care  for  affection  which  could  change  into  indifference  so 
easily ! " 

Hugh  felt  very  much  annoyed ;  he  began  to  feel  that  he 
had  been  mistaken  in  this  girl,  who  was  not  nearly  so  nice 
as  she  had  at  first  seemed. 

"Don't  you  think  the  husband  would  prefer  my  view 
to  yours?"  asked  he  rather  coldly. 

"  A  husband  like  Mr.  Hilliard  would  prefer  your  view  to 
Gerard's,  for  instance,"  she  answered,  coloring  deeply  as 
she  mentioned  the  second  name. 

Hugh  felt  more  annoyed  still. 

"  I  think  even  the  immaculate  Gerard  would  say  you  were 
doing  a  very  risky  thing  in  engaging  in  such  an  expedi- 
tion as  the  present  one,"  said  he  coldly. 

"Then,  why  did  you  come?  " 

Hugh  put  up  his  umbrella  to  stop  the  hansom,  and  Jem, 
now  as  humble  as  a  moment  before  she  bad  been  bold,  rec- 
ognized the  fact  that  she  had  been  both  ungrateful  and 
rude. 

"  No,  no,  don't — at  least,  of  course,  you  can  go  if  you 
like.  But  I  am  sorry  I've  been  so  rude.  I'm  always  doing 
something  like  that,"  she  added,  tragically. 

Hugh  desisted,  and  before  he  had  time  to  accept  her 
apology  in  words  the  driver  opened  his  little  trap-door  and 
said: 

"  Shall  I  go  on,  sir?     The  gentleman's  got  out." 

Hugh  and  Jem  had  been  so  much  occupied  by  their 
quarrel  that  they  were  in  danger  of  forgetting  what  their 
errand  was. 

"  Drive  on,"  said  Hugh. 

Linley's  hansom  had  stopped  at  a  house  in  a  shabby 
street  near  Victoria,  and  Linley  himself  had  got  out  with 
his  bag,  dismissed  the  hansom,  and  entered  the  house  be- 
fore the  hansom  in  pursuit  drove  past. 


JEM'S  ADVENTURE.  197 

"And  now,"  said  Hugh,  decidedly,  "you  must  let  me 
take  you  back  to  Waterloo,  for  you  may  be  quite  sure  that 
Netelka  is  not  in  that  house." 

A  glance  had  told  him  that  the  house  in  question  was  a 
lodging-house  of  low  character.  Jem  had  sense  enough  to 
make  no  objection.  But  she  proffered  a  stipulation. 

"Will  you,  Mr.  Thorndyke,"  said  she  solemnly,  "have 
the  house  watched?  I  have  an  idea  in  my  head,  but  I 
would  rather  not  tell  you  what  it  is  until  I  find  out 
whether  I'm  right.  Then  you  can't  laugh  at  me,  you 
know,  if  I'm  wrong." 

Very  reluctantly,  Hugh  agreed  to  this,  and  agreed  also 
to  let  her  know  if  any  result  came  of  the  watching. 

She  was  very  grateful  to  him,  but  Hugh  was  rather 
piqued  by  the  frank  simplicity  with  which  she  looked  upon 
him  as  a  mere  part  of  the  machinery  by  which  her  plan 
of  finding  Netelka  was  to  be  worked. 

"  I  will  be  sure  to  come  down  and  tell  you  if  anything 
happens,"  he  promised  as  he  put  her  into  the  train  at  Wa- 
terloo. "  But  nothing  will  happen,  you  know,"  he  added, 
reassuringly.  "  Things  worth  putting  one's  self  out  about 
BO  seldom  do!" 

"Thank,  you,  oh!  so  much,"  said  Jem  fervently,  as  she 
gave  him  a  hearty  grip  of  the  hand  and  looked  at  him  with 
tantalizing  gratitude  out  of  her  pretty  blue  eyes.  And 
then  she  spoiled  it  all  by  adding,  with  the  most  innocent 
but  cold-blooded  cruelty :  "  You  needn't  trouble  to  come, 
you  know.  You  can  write!" 

Hugh,  in  spite  of  the  decision  he  had  come  to  that  he 
was  disappointed  in  Jem,  felt  that  his  face  grew  longer  as 
he  received  this  recommendation. 


CHAPTEE  XXVI. 
LINLEY'S  LITTLE  GAME. 

JEM  did  Hugh  Thorndyke  an  injustice.  His  interest  in 
Netelka  had  not  evaporated,  although  he  showed  it  in  a  less 
demonstrative  manner  than  that  impulsive  young  lady. 
He  recognized,  as  she  did  not,  the  need  of  great  caution 
in  dealing  with  a  man  whom  he  believed  to  be  an  accom- 
plished rascal. 

And  yet  Hugh's  actual  knowledge  of  Linley's  misdeeds 
was  not  extensive,  being  confined  to  the  conviction  that 
he  had  seen  the  delicate-handed  gentleman  cheat  at  cards. 
But  this  was  enough :  you  could  go  no  lower  than  that; 
and  Hugh,  whose  acquaintance  with  card-sharpers  had  been 
perfected  all  over  the  globe,  was  quite  ready  to  believe  Lin- 
ley  capable  of  other  malpractices. 

He  walked  away  from  the  station  in  a  thoroughly  dis- 
contented and  irritable  mood,  uneasy  about  Netelka  and 
annoyed  with  her  valiant  little  friend.  Of  course  he  was 
anxious  about  Netelka's  safety,  just  as  anxious  as  Miss 
Collingham  could  be :  but  really  the  girl's  notions  of  one's 
right  of  interference  between  husband  and  wife  were  very 
far-fetched,  and  her  constant  references  to  Gerard,  as  if  he 
were  an  angel  from  heaven,  began  to  be  extremely  nauseat- 
ing. Decidedly  Miss  Collingham,  pretty  as  she  undoubtedly 
was,  must  be  dropped  if  she  persisted  in  expressing  her 
outspoken  preference  for  a  man  who  was  head  over  ears  in 
love  with  another  woman. 

But  then  there  came  the  most  irritating  reflection  of 
all :  and  this  was  that  Jem  was  not  only  entirely  willing 


LINLEY 'S  LITTLE  GAME.  199 

to  be  "  dropped"  by  him,  but  that  she  had  herself  sug- 
gested that  he  should  write,  to  save  himself  the  trouble  of 
calling! 

Hugh  would  have  liked  to  flatter  himself  that  Miss  Col- 
lingham  was  not  averse  from  opening  a  correspondence  with 
him :  but  alas !  her  matter-of-fact  manner,  her  entire  ab- 
sence of  coquetry,  had  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  enter- 
tain such  a  thought.  There  was  nothing  for  him  to  do 
but  to  set  about  obeying  her  behest :  Hugh  did  so  with 
more  thought  of  pleasing  Jem  than  of  satisfying  himself 
about  the  safety  of  Netelka. 

He  had  promised  to  have  the  house  which  Linley  had 
entered  watched ;  and,  after  a  little  further  consideration, 
he  engaged  an  agent  from  a  private  inquiry  office  to  under- 
take the  task.  Hugh  gave  the  man  a  description  of  Linley, 
and  commissioned  him  to  follow  that  gentleman  if  he  should 
leave  the  house  with  a  lady.  He  was  to  report  progress  on 
the  following  evening. 

At  the  end  of  the  next  day,  the  detective  duly  called  upon 
him,  and  his  statement,  made  with  the  help  of  notes,  was 
as  follows : 

"  The  gentleman  whose  description  you  gave  me,  short,  slender, 

very  fair  hair,  complexion,  and  eyes,  left  the  house,  No. 

Street,  at  eleven  o'clock  this  morning,  accompanied  by  a  lady.  The 
lady  was  rather  tall,  dark-haired,  and  was  dressed  in  a  black  silk 
dress,  a  long  black  mantle  lined  with  gray  silk,  a  close-fitting  black 
hat  trimmed  with  small  black  and  gray  feathers.  She  wore  a  thick 
black  veil. 

"  I  followed  them.  They  walked  for  a  short  distance,  then  took  a 
hansom  and  drove  to  the  city.  They  got  out  at  the  office  of  the 
Royal  Britannia  Life  Insurance  Company,  where  they  stayed  for 
about  an  hour.  On  coming  out,  they  got  into  the  hansom  and  drove 
straight  back.  About  an  hour  after  that,  at  three  o'clock,  the  gen- 
tleman came  out  of  the  house  by  himself,  carrying  a  Gladstone  bag. 
He  got  into  a  hansom,  drove  away,  and  did  not  return. " 

Hugh  had  heard  enough.     He  felt  sure  that  the  woman 


200  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

whom  the  detective  had  seen  with  Linley  was  not  Netelka, 
but  a  woman  whom  Linley  had  induced  to  personate  his 
wife;  and  it  was  evident  that  his  object  was  to  effect  an 
insurance  on  his  wife's  life  without  her  knowledge. 

The  matter  had  now  assumed  such  a  serious  aspect  that 
he  again  called  on  Lady  Kenslow  and  told  her  of  the  inves- 
tigation he  had  just  made  and  the  result. 

Lady  Kenslow  listened  attentively  and  grew  very  pale. 
She  affected,  however,  to  be  annoyed  at  Hugh's  officious- 
ness;  and  on  learning  that  he  himself  had  not  seen  the 
alleged  personator  of  her  niece,  she  affected  to  believe  that 
it  was  Netelka  herself  whom  the  detective  had  seen  with 
her  husband,  and  very  curtly  desired  that  he  would  make 
no  further  investigations  without  consulting  her. 

"It  is  quite  unheard  of,"  she  said,  rising  majestically 
as  a  signal  for  him  to  retire,  "  that  people  should  have  their 
private  affairs-pried  into  by  people  whom  they  don't  con- 
cern. I  beg  that  you  will  take  no  further  steps  in  this 
matter.  If  you  do,  I  shall  feel  it  my  duty  to  warn  Mr. 
Hilliard  that  his  movements  are  being  watched  by — a  friend 
of  his  wife's." 

She  said  these  last  words  with  such  disagreeable  sig- 
nificance that  Hugh,  blushing  violently,  hastened  to  add, 
in  a  voice  full  of  suppressed  anger : 

"The  inquiry  was  not  made  on  my  account;  I  instituted 
it  at  the  earnest  request  of  a  lady  who  seems  to  be  more 
anxious  for  her  friend  than  if  she  were  a  relation." 

"  Your  sneers  are  quite  thrown  away  upon  me,  Mr. 
Thorndyke,"  said  Lady  Kenslow,  with  an  air  of  superb  in- 
difference, as  he  bowed  himself  out. 

But  as  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Lady  Kenslow's  face  became 
clouded  with  anxiety.  Faithful  to  her  code,  she  still 
dreaded  the  scandal  of  an  exposure  more  than  anything. 
But,  knowing  the  trouble  into  which  Linley  had  already 


LINLEY'S  LITTLE  GAME.  201 

got  himself  through  an  insurance  office,  she  could  not  help 
seeing  that  Hugh's  suspicions  were  correct,  and  she  per- 
ceived the  necessity  for  immediate  action.  She  thought, 
however,  that  a  word  from  her  would  be  enough,  and  she 
sat  down  without  delay  to  write  to  him.  She  did  not  make 
any  unkind  insinuation,  but  mentioned  that  she  had  heard 
accidentally  that  Netelka  had  been  insuring  her  life,  and 
warned  him  that,  in  view  of  his  "  unfortunate  experience" 
in  insurance  business,  it  was  waste  of  money  to  have  any- 
thing more  to  do  with  such  matters. 

Then  Lady  Kenslow  sighed,  feeling  that  she  had  done 
all  that  was  necessary,  as  she  rang  the  bell  and  told  the 
footman  to  post  the  letter  at  once. 

Hugh  Thorndyke,  meanwhile,  had  left  the  house  in  a 
very  uneasy  state  of  mind.  He  could  not  feel  as  contented 
as  Lady  Kenslow  professed  to  do  about  Netelka,  and  yet 
upon  what  grounds  could  he  interfere? 

He  felt  rather  inclined  to  go  down  to  Wimbledon  next 
day  to  tell  Jem  what  he  had  seen.  This  half -fledged  crea- 
ture had  just  the  impulse  and  daring  which  his  years  and 
his  experience  made  impossible  for  him,  and  he  had  a  half  - 
Buperstitious  feeling  that  she  might  jump  to  a  way  out  of 
the  difficulty  which  his  slower  and  more  cautious  and  mas- 
culine mind  could  not  conceive. 

A  sudden  turn  was,  however,  given  to  all  his  thoughts  by 
a  telegram  which  he  found  awaiting  him  when  he  returned 
to  the  hotel  where  he  had  been  staying. 

It  contained  a  summons  to  the  death-bed  of  his  mother, 
and  necessitated  an  immediate  journey  to  the  north  of  Eng- 
land, where,  in  a  remote  district  among  the  Yorkshire 
moors,  his  father's  vicarage  was  situated.  Here  his  mother's 
illness,  which  ended  in  her  death,  and  meeting  with  old 
friends  whom  he  had  not  seen  since  his  return  from  Africa, 
occupied  his  time  and  his  thoughts  almost  to  the  exclusion 


202  A  SENSATIONAL   CASE. 

of  Netelka  and  her  husband,  until  they  were  recalled  to  his 
thoughts  in  an  abrupt  and  unexpected  manner. 

Hugh  had  property  of  considerable  extent,  and  was  looked 
upon  in  his  old  neighborhood  as  a  "  great  match. "  In  spite, 
therefore,  of  the  sad  errand  on  which  he  had  come,  he  was 
forced  to  see  a  good  deal  of  his  old  neighbors,  who  loaded 
him  with  their  sympathy  on  every  possible  occasion.  After 
his  mother's  death  he  was  obliged  to  remain  at  the  vicarage 
for  a  little  while,  being  one  of  the  executors  of  his  mother's 
will.  Besides,  although  he  had  let  his  house,  and  was  sat- 
isfied with  the  management  of  his  agent,  yet  there  were 
many  details  upon  which  that  personage  was  glad  of  an  op- 
portunity of  consulting  him.  So  Hugh,  against  his  will, 
found  himself  detained  in  Yorkshire  for  five  or  six  weeks. 

He  had  been  forced  into  accepting  an  invitation  to  after- 
noon tea  at  the  house  of  some  very  old  friends,  when  one  of 
the  daughters,  who  had  entertained  a  preference  for  Hugh 
which  was  an  open  secret,  and  who  had  been  very  jealous  of 
Netelka  in  the  latter's  maiden  days,  found  an  opportunity 
of  referring  to  that  lady  with  much  malice.  They  were 
sitting  just  inside  the  open  French  windows  of  a  long,  low- 
ceilinged,  old-fashioned  drawing-room,  where  papier-mache 
tables  and  potpourri  bowls  recalled  the  faded  and  insipid 
elegances  of  life  in  a  far-off  age.  Maude,  who  was  on  the 
borders  of  thirty,  but  who  had  retained  the  youthful  ap- 
pearance of  eight  years  back,  as  many  girls  do  in  the  placid 
existence  of  the  country,  handed  him  his  tea  with  a  rather 
pinched  little  smile. 

"By  the  bye,  Hugh,  what  did  you  think  of  poor  Netelka 
Askew's  matrimonial  venture?  Dreadfully  sad,  wasn't  it?" 

Hugh  started. 

"What,  you  know  all  about  it  up  here,  then?" 

"  Why,  of  course.  The  trial  came  on  at  Liverpool  Assizes 
last  year." 


LINLEY'S  LITTLE  GAME.  203 

"The  trial!"  exclaimed  Hugh,  turning  almost  purple. 

"Yes.  Didn't  you  hear  of  it?  The  papers  over  here 
•were  full  of  nothing  else.  It  was  'Trial  of  Linley  Dax' 
on  the  hoardings  wherever  one  looked." 

Hugh  was  struck  dumb.  The  Dax  murder  trial  had 
reached  even  South  Africa,  and  he  was  familiar  with  most 
of  its  details.  For  a  moment  he  sat  quite  still,  staring  at 
his  teacup  without  uttering  a  sound.  Then  he  put  it  down 
abruptly  on  the  table  and  stood  up,  looking  out  at  old  Mrs. 
Linthorpe,  in  the  rusty  black  satin  he  remembered  fifteen 
years  ago,  trying  to  induce  her  fat  pug  to  run.  He  felt  the 
blood  rushing  to  his  head,  and  suddenly  wondered  whether 
Maude  thought  he  was  going  to  have  a  fit  of  apoplexy.  He 
looked  at  her.  She  was  quite  pleased  with  herself  for  hav- 
ing made  a  palpable  hit. 

"  I  wondered  whether  you'd  heard.  I  thought  you  would 
be  interested  to  hear  it,"  said  she. 

Interested !     This  was  the  bucolic  view  of  things. 

"We've  never  been  able  to  find  out,"  pursued  Maude, 
placidly,  "  what  has  become  of  her.  As  for  him,  why  people 
thought,  you  know,  that  he  was  lucky  to  get  off.  How  horrid 
for  her,  poor  girl,  to  be  married  to  a  murderer,  wasn't  it?" 

At  last  Hugh  could  speak,  but  it  was  in  a  hard,  mechan- 
ical tone  that  he  answered : 

"Yes,  I  don't  suppose  it's  pleasant.  I — I  must  be — 
must  be  getting  back  to  the  vicarage,  Maude,  or  I  shall 
keep  the  Vicar  waiting  for  dinner." 

But  Hugh  did  not  go  back  to  the  vicarage  to  dinner. 
He  was  no  sooner  outside  the  gates  of  the  house  he  had  been 
visiting  than  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  up  to  town  by  the 
seven  o'clock  train  to  Brierfield  Junction ;  he  was  full  of  re- 
morse for  having  neglected  Netelka,  and  crazy  lest  the  in- 
terval which  had  elapsed  since  he  left  London  had  been 
fatal  to  her. 


204  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

The  express  seemed  to  crawl  along  the  line :  by  the  time 
Hugh  reached  the  hotel  where  he  had  stayed  on  his  previ- 
ous visit  to  town  he  was  in  a  fever. 

A  waiter  stepped  up  to  him  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  his 
room. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir;  but  here's  a  letter  for  you  that  came 
two  or  three  days  ago.  Mrs.  Hutchins  is  very  sorry  that  she 
forgot  to  forward  it." 

Hugh  took  it  with  a  presentiment  of  evil  born  of  his  de- 
spondent frame  of  mind.  The  postmark  was  Wimbledon ; 
the  handwriting,  for  it  was  shaky  and  irregular,  he  recog- 
nized as  Gerard  Waller's.  It  was  only  a  note: 

"  DEAR  THORNDYKE  : — Come  down  and  see  me  if  you  can.  I  am 
awfully  ill — may  pop  off  the  hooks  at  any  moment,  I  believe. 

"Yours,  GERARD  WALLER." 

Sick  at  heart,  weighed  down  with  the  gravest  forebod- 
ings, Hugh  staggered  down  the  stairs  and  called  for  a  ban* 
som. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  MYSTERIOUS  ILLNESS. 

BETWEEN  his  fears  for  Netelka  and  his  fears  for  Gerard, 
Hugh  Thorndyke  was  scarcely  in  his  right  mind  by  the  time 
he  reached  Wimbledon.  If,  on  his  arrival  at  "The  Firs," 
he  had  been  met  by  the  gentle-mannered  Linley,  he  would 
have  been  unable  to  keep  his  hands  off  that  gentleman's 
graceful  person. 

It  was  nearly  two  months  since  his  last  visit  to  "  The 
Firs,"  and  the  bare  branches  and  plain  red  walls  of  March 
had  given  place  to  the  leaf  and  blossom,  the  delicate  hang- 
ing creepers  of  May.  "The  Firs"  was  transfigured:  the 
stately  old  house  was  buried  in  a  nest  of  exquisite  foliage : 
the  wisteria  hung  in  clusters  about  the  darkened  window  of 
Gerard's  room. 

Hugh  hurried  up  the  pathway,  dreading  what  he  should 
hear. 

"How  is  he?  How  is  Mr.  Waller?"  he  asked  of  the  ser- 
vant almost  before  the  door  was  opened. 

"  He  is  much  the  same,  sir,"  said  the  man,  in  a  tone  of 
more  than  conventional  regret ;  "  that  is,  much  the  same 
as  he  was  yesterday :  but  he's  a  good  deal  better  than  he  was 
the  day  before  that,  sir.  We  all  thought  he  wouldn't  live 
through  the  night  on  Sunday,  sir.  Mr.  Hilliard  sat  up 
with  him  all  night,  sir." 

"  Oh!"  said  Hugh,  shortly.  "  Is  Mr.  Hilliard  with  him 
now?" 

"No,  sir.     He's  gone  away  to  see  Mrs.  Hilliard." 

Hugh  strode  at  once  into  the  house  with  a  little  gesture, 


206  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

which  the  servant  noticed.  It  was  the  sort  of  household  in 
which  very  few  things  escape  the  criticism  of  the  servants' 
hall. 

"Who  is  with  Mr.  Waller  now?"  asked  he.  "Will  you 
see  if  I  can  go  up  to  him?" 

The  man  showed  him  into  the  drawing-room  and  re- 
tired. Hugh  paced  up  and  down,  picturing  to  himself 
what  the  inner  life  of  the  woman  must  have  been  since  she 
found  out  what  manner  of  man  she  had  married ;  and  his 
heart  ached  for  her. 

Then  the  door  opened  suddenly,  and  there  entered — 
skipping,  fluttering,  all  unnecessary  draperies,  and  fly- 
ing ribbons,  and  little  meaningless  smiles  and  airy 
gestures — Mrs.  Collingham.  She  wore  a  large  cook's  apron 
and  deep  cuffs,  to  denote  that  she  had  taken  upon  herself 
the  duties  of  a  sick-nurse.  She  descended  upon  Hugh 
like  a  rain-cloud — light  in  itself,  but  depressing  in  its 
effects. 

"  How  do  you  do,  my  dear  Mr.  Thorndyke?  I  am  so  glad 
to  see  you,  and  so  sorry  to  have  no  better  news  of  our  dear 
Gerard!"  she  exclaimed,  all  in  one  breath,  with  a  profusion 
of  touching  little  sighs. 

"He's  such  a  dear,  nice  fellow  himself ,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hilliard  are  so  fond  of  him,  that  I  wouldn't  have  anything 
happen  to  the  poor,  dear  boy  for  the  world!  As  soon  as  I 
heard  that  dear  Mr.  Hilliard  was  going  to  see  his  wife  I 
determined  to  leave  my  own  household  to  take  its  chance, 
and  to  devote  myself  to  the  duties  of  a  nurse.  It's  a  great 
fatigue  and  a  great  responsibility  of  course;  but  still,  in  the 
interests  of  friendship,  one  must  make  sacrifices,  mustn't 
one?  And  when  dear  Mr.  Hilliard  told  me  that  he  could 
trust  me  as  he  could  himself,  I  felt  repaid  for  all,  I  assure 
you." 

Hugh  felt  bewildered  by  this  harangue,  but  he  managed 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ILLNESS.  207 

to  stammer  out  some  vague  words  which  satisfied  the  lady, 
and  gave  her  time  to  get  breath  for  a  fresh  speech. 

"And  Gerard  is  the  best  and  most  unselfish  of  patients, 
I  assure  you.  He  is  always  begging  me  to  go  back  home; 
and  when  you  were  announced,  he  quite  insisted  that  I 
should  come  down  and  see  you.  Otherwise  I  am  sure  you 
will  believe  that  I  would  not  on  any  account  have  left 
the  dear  boy." 

Hugh  expressed  in  suitable  terms  his  amazement  and  de- 
light at  such  power  of  self-sacrifice,  and  asked  whether  he 
might  see  Gerard. 

Mrs.  Collingham  professed  to  look  doubtful. 

"You  see,"  she  said,  "the  doctor  says  he  must  be  kept 
very  quiet,  and  really  I  don't  know " 

Hugh  could  not  help  smiling. 

"I'll  be  very  good,"  protested  he,  "and  as  quiet  as — as 
you  yourself  could  be.  Will  that  satisfy  you?" 

Mrs.  Collingham  gave  way,  sweetly,  coquettishly,  with  a 
few  shrugs,  and  many  admonitions  to  restrain  his  wild  ex- 
uberance and  to  remember  that  he  was  bound  by  his  prom- 
ise to  her  to  move  and  talk  with  as  little  noise  or  excite- 
ment as  possible.  Then,  to  Hugh's  horror,  she  insisted  on 
accompanying  him  upstairs. 

Gerard  was  lying  on  the  sofa  in  his  bedroom :  he  looked 
thin,  white-faced,  and  worried.  As  Hugh  bent  over  him 
and  stretched  out  his  hand  to  take  the  cold  fingers  of  the 
invalid  in  his,  the  younger  man  looked  up  with  a  wistful 
expression  in  his  eyes.  This,  however,  changed  to  one  of 
dismay  when  he  caught  sight  of  the  flying  draperies  of  his 
self-constituted  nurse,  who  was  closely  following  the  visitor. 

"Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  old  man?"  asked 
Hugh,  in  response  to  a  look  of  earnest  entreaty  on  Gerard's 
face. 

"  Kill  that, "  murmured  the  invalid. 


208  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Hugh  turned  to  Mrs.  Collingham.  He  did  not  venture 
to  obey  his  friend's  injunction  to  the  letter,  but  he  gently 
suggested  that  Gerard  had  urgent  private  affairs  to  dis- 
cuss with  him,  and  promised  not  to  allow  him  to  excite 
himself.  With  the  enthusiasm  of  the  amateur,  Mrs.  Col- 
lingham shook  her  head,  and  set  all  her  draperies  flying 
and  fluttering. 

"I  really  don't  know  whether  I  ought,"  she  protested. 
"  If  I  do  consent,  mind,  it's  only  for  ten  minutes." 

Hugh  was  ready  to  bind  himself  to  anything  to  get  rid 
of  her.  She  tripped  off  airily,  waving  her  hand  to  Hugh 
and  kissing  it  to  Gerard.  When  the  door  closed,  Gerard 
uttered  a  deep  sigh.  "  That  creature  was  driving  me  mad," 
he  exclaimed,  irritably.  "  If  you  hadn't  come,  I  should 
have  thrown  something  at  her." 

"Don't  be  ungrateful,  Gerard.    "She's  a  good  soul " 

"  Her  soul  may  be  all  right,  for  what  I  know.  It's  her 
detestable  personality  I  can't  stand.  I  always  have  the 
feeling  that  if  I  dare  to  hold  my  finger  out,  she'd  try  to  hop 
upon  it  and  say  'Tweet- tweet!'  And  all  the  time  that 
she's  pretending  to  be  so  anxious  about  me,  she's  only  try- 
ing to  find  out  my  '  intentions' — accursed  word ! — toward 
her  stepdaughter!" 

"  Jem !"  exclaimed  Hugh,  with  a  start. 

Gerard  nodded  and  looked  curiously  at  his  visitor,  who 
had  turned  crimson  at  the  mention  of  the  girl's  name. 

"What!"  cried  Gerard,  opening  his  eyes  very  wide;  "are 
you?  Do  you ?" 

"No,"  replied  Hugh  promptly  and  emphatically,  with  a 
severe  frown,  "  I  am  not,  and  I  do  not.  I  don't  mean  to 
say  that  she  isn't  a  very  nice  girl  and  a  very  pretty  girl, 
but  she's  so  eaten  up  with  thoughts  of — of  somebody  else 
that — "  he  stopped,  and  there  was  a  pause,  which  Gerard 
did  not  try  to  break.  Then  Hugh  said  impatiently :  "  Why 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ILLNESS.  209 

the don't  you  marry  her?    It  would  put  an  end  to  all 

your  difficulties,  and  to  all  hers." 

"Oh,  would  it?"  said  Gerard  dryly.  "My  dear  fellow, 
never  try  to  make  a  marriage.  Those  marriages  that  don't 
make  themselves,"  he  went  on  in  a  sententious  tone,  "are 
made,  not  in  Heaven,  but  in  the  other  place.  If  I  were  to 
marry  Jem,"  he  went  on,  raising  himself  to  give  emphasis 
to  his  words,  "  I  should  break  her  heart,  and  my  own  too !" 

Hugh  was  silent  and  discreetly  absorbed  in  the  pattern 
of  the  carpet.  Presently  he  said,  with  diffidence: 

"Wouldn't  it  be  better,  then,  if  you  don't  think  of  mar- 
rying her,  for  you  to  go  away  from  here?  Of  course  I've  no 
right  to  interfere ;  but,  well,  do  you  think  this  place  agrees 
with  you?" 

Both  men  were  talking  on  the  surface,  and  both  knew 
that  their  words  were  only  playing  over  their  thoughts. 
Suddenly  Gerard  sprang  up. 

"Of  course  I  know  what  you  mean,"  said  he,  with  sup- 
pressed excitement  in  his  tones.  "  I  know  why  you  want 
me  away.  But  you  don't  understand — you  don't  under- 
stand, I  tell  you.  I  don't  pretend,  at  least  I  won't  pretend 
with  you,  that  I  have  a  very  high  opinion  of  the  two  gen- 
tlemen who  are  joint  proprietors  of  the — of  the  Club,  I  sup- 
pose we  can  call  it,  upstairs.  Or  that  it  is  for  their  sake 
that  I  stay  here  and  allow  myself  to  be  fleeced." 

"Fleeced — yes,  that's  the  word!"  interrupted  Hugh. 
"  And  they  don't  stop  at  that,"  he  went  on  impetuously. 
"  Now  that  they  have  got  all  they  can  out  of  you  alive,  they 
mean  to  find  profit  in  your  death.  If  you  don't  leave  this 
place  at  once,  you  will  never  leave  it  alive." 

Gerard  grew  a  little  paler,  and  was  silent  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. Then  he  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  care,"  said  he. 

"But  you  ought  to  carej  you've  got  to  care.     Where  is 
14 


210  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

your  father?  Where  are  your  friends?  Where  did  you  live 
before  you  came  here?" 

"  I  lived  in  chambers.  My  father  is  abroad,  travelling, 
I  believe.  He  never  answers  my  letters.  As  for  my  friends, 
I  don't  know  that  I  have  any,  except  Sainsbury  and  Sam 
Teale." 

"Don't  be  ungrateful.  You  have  more  friends  than 
those;  and  even  if  you  had  none,  that's  no  reason  why  you 
should  let  yourself  be  snuffed  out  like  a  candle  for  the  ben- 
efit of  a  couple  of  rogues." 

Gerard  looked  at  Hugh  with  affected  amusement  and  ad- 
miration. 

"  I  didn't  think  you  had  it  in  you  to  get  as  much  excited 
as  that  over  anything,"  he  said.  "  It's  beautiful  to  see  you. 
Seriously,  though,  it's  all  right.  They're  not  poisoning  me, 
as  one  would  almost  think  you  meant  to  imply."  Hugh 
was  examining  the  medicine-bottles  which  stood  on  a  small 
table  in  a  corner  of  the  room.  "  I  caught  cold  while  I  was 
out  driving  with  Hilliard,  and  then  I  had  pneumonia, 
whatever  that  is ;  and  complications,  whatever  those  are. 
Nothing  in  the  world  to  be  suspicious  about." 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  said  Hugh  emphatically.  "You 
are  liable  to  cold,  while  he's  too  fish-blooded  to  be  liable  to 
anything.  Who  is  your  doctor?" 

"  A  man  named  Pemberton — lives  at  the  corner  of  the 
road;  I  haven't  much  faith  in  his  medicines." 

"  I  should  have  more  if  they  were  not  administered  by 
Mr.  Hilliard,"  said  Hugh,  who  was  still  examining  the  bot- 
tles of  medicine.  Then  he  strode  over  to  the  sofa.  "  Look 
here,  Waller,"  he  said  in  a  very  emphatic  tone,  "you  must 
get  out  of  this.  Take  my  advice.  Let  me  call  a  cab  and 
take  you  straight  back  to  town  again.  You  can  stay  with 
me;  and  even  if  you  run  some  risk  in  moving  at  all,  it's  a 
lighter  one  than  that  of  remaining  here." 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ILLNESS.  211 

But  Gerard  began  to  tremble  while  the  blood  rose  in  his 
pale  face. 

"I  can't — I  can't  go  away,"  he  answered  in  an  unsteady 
voice,  "until — until  Hilliard  comes  back." 

A  light  flashed  into  Hugh's  mind :  it  was  Gerard's  man- 
ner of  keeping  his  eyes  down  which  enlightened  him. 

"Is  he  going  to  bring  back  his  wife  with  him?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

Gerard's  manner  betrayed  him  even  before  he  answered: 

"He  said  so.     But  then  he  always  says  so." 

•/  V 

Hugh  took  two  or  three  turns  up  and  down  the  room. 
Then  he  stopped  short  beside  the  sofa. 

"And  doesn't  that  open  your  eyes?  Does't  that  prove 
to  you  the  sort  of  cur  you  are  dealing  with?  The  brute 
makes  his  wife's  beauty  and  charm  just  a  counter  in  the 
game.  Don't  you  see  that  he  is  getting  you  entirely  under 
his  thumb  by  means  of  her?  That  it  is  degrading  to  her 
as  well  as  to  you  for  this  state  of  things  to  go  on?  Where 
will  it  end?  Ask  yourself  that.  How  can'ii  end?  Pull 
yourself  together:  put  an  end  to  this  once  and  for  all. 
Remember  that  you  can  do  her  no  good,  but  that  you  might 
do  her  untold  harm." 

Gerard  betrayed  the  agitation  into  which  he  was  thrown 
by  this  exhortation,  by  a  hundred  restless  movements,  by 
the  suffering  in  his  face,  the  burning  brilliancy  of  his  eyes. 
When  Hugh  had  finished,  he  started  up  from  the  sofa, 
staggered  and  fell  back  again,  only  saved  from  falling  by 
the  quickly  outstretched  arms  of  his  friend.  He  affected 
to  laugh  as  he  sat,  trembling  and  leaning  on  Hugh's 
shoulder. 

"I'm  a  pretty  fellow  to  move,"  said  he,  as  he  passed  his 
handkerchief  with  a  shaking  hand  over  his  forehead. 
"  Can't  you  see  that  I'm  not  in  a  fit  state  to  go  up  to  town 
or  anywhere  else  to-day?  I  would  go,  I  give  you  my  word 


212  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

I  would,  if  I  could  do  so  with  safety.  You're  quite  right, 
of  course  I  know  you're  quite  right.  I  ought  to  go,  I  must 
go.  But — well,  you  don't  want  to  have  an  invalid  on 
your  hands,  and  you  see  what  I  am  now." 

Hugh  was  much  troubled.  He  could  see  for  himself  that 
to  move  Gerard  at  once  would  be  a  risk,  and  be  knew  that 
if  he  were  to  ask  the  doctor's  opinion  it  would  be  adverse 
to  his  wishes.  He  considered  a  moment,  and  then  asked 
abruptly  : 

"  When  is  Hilliard  coming  back?" 

"  On  Tuesday,  I  believe." 

This  was  Friday.    Hugh's  face  brightened. 

"Well,  that  gives  us  three  days,"  said  he,  decidedly. 
"  In  the  mean  time,  don't  take  any  more  medicine  unless 
the  doctor  brings  it  to  you  himself.  This  is  really  a 
necessary  precaution  while  you  are  in  such  questionable 
hands." 

A  gasp,  a  stifled  shriek,  a  sound  of  various  small  articles 
of  furniture  falling  with  a  crash,  and  Hugh,  looking  round 
quickly,  saw  that  Mrs.  Collingham  had  entered  the  room, 
and  that  a  great  commotion  and  upheaval  had  been  the  re- 
sult. She  had  overheard  the  last  words  uttered  by  Hugh ; 
and  although  the  unlucky  man  did  his  utmost  to  persuade 
her  that  the  "  questionable  hands"  he  had  referred  to  were 
not  hers,  his  arguments  were  all  in  vain.  He  appealed  for 
corroboration  to  Gerard ;  but  unhappily  the  invalid  was  so 
much  struck  with  the  fun  of  the  situation  that  he  was  help- 
less with  suppressed  laughter,  and  before  he  was  in  a  con- 
dition to  render  his  friend  effective  assistance,  the  amateur 
nurse  had  bounced  out  of  the  room,  speechless  (at  last)  with 
indignation. 

Hugh  was  distressed  beyond  measure.  He  sat  in  an  atti- 
tude of  despair,  while  Gerard  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down 
his  face. 


A  MYSTERIOUS  ILLNESS.  213 

"  The  dear  old  thing  thinks  you  suspect  her  of  poisoning 
me!"  he  cried  as  soon  as  he  could  speak. 

But  Hugh  was  deeply  annoyed,  because  he  saw  that  Mrs. 
Collingham  was  not  the  sort  of  woman  to  keep  silence  upon 
the  incident.  However,  there  was  nothing  to  be  done,  and 
meanwhile  Gerard  was  rejoicing  that  he  should  at  last  be 
left  in  peace.  Hugh  thought  that  he  had  better  leave  the 
house,  as  his  presence  in  it  would  only  serve  to  keep  alive 
Mrs.  Collingham 's  anger. 

With  a  heavy  heart,  therefore,  he  was  going  down  the 
staircase  on  his  way  out,  when  he  noticed  that  the  footman, 
who  was  waiting  for  him  in  the  hall,  was  looking  up  at  him 
with  the  expression  of  a  person  who  has  an  important  mes- 
sage to  deliver. 

It  was  the  same  man  who  had  opened  the  door  for  Hugh 
on  his  arrival.  He  was  one  of  those  discreet  servants  who, 
knowing  many  of  the  secrets  of  the  household  of  which  they 
form  a  part,  "  take  sides"  and  follow  their  own  choice  loy- 
ally. He  hated  Linley,  who  treated  him  like  a  dog,  and 
Moseley,  who  was  little  better ;  and  he  would  have  gone  out 
of  his  way  to  serve  either  Mrs.  Hilliard  or  Mr.  Waller. 
And  he  coupled  their  names  together  as  being  the  represen- 
tatives of  light  against  darkness. 

"  I  should  like  to  speak  to  you,  sir,"  he  said  in  a  low 
voice  as  he  opened  the  door  between  the  inner  and  the  outer 
hall.  "  Excuse  me  for  mentioning  it,  sir ;  but  Mrs.  Col- 
lingham went  straight  from  Mr.  Waller's  room  to  Mr. 
Moseley,  and  he  gave  me  a  telegram  to  send  off  to  Mr.  Hil- 
liard at  Hastings,  sir." 

"Hastings!"  exclaimed  Hugh  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  man.  "  Not  Bournemouth,  but 
No.  209  Seaview  Parade,  Hastings.  Excuse  me  for  troub- 
ling you,  sir;  but — we  are  all  anxious  to  know  that  Mrs. 
Hilliard  is  well." 


214  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Hugh  said  nothing  to  intimate  that  this  communication 
bore  any  significance  to  him,  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  in- 
terested him  deeply.  He  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  that 
Linley  had  taken  Netelka  away  with  some  sinister  intention, 
and  it  was  evident  that  the  discovery  of  this  address  was  an 
important  one.  But  there  were  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
making  use  of  this  piece  of  knowledge.  He  dared  not  go 
down  to  see  her  himself,  and  he  had  not  sufficient  proof  of 
his  suspicions  of  Linley  to  put  the  matter  into  a  lawyer's 
hands. 

It  was  in  a  mood  of  perplexity,  therefore,  bordering  on 
despair  that  he  passed  through  the  gates  of  "  The  Firs" 
and  glanced  instinctively  at  the  windows  of  "  Maisonette" 
on  his  way  to  the  station. 


CHAPTEE  XXVIII. 

A   STARTLING   PROPOSITION. 

"ME.  THORNDYKE!     Mr.  Thorndyke!" 

Hugh  heard  his  name  hissed  out  in  a  mysteriously  tragic 
whisper  which  would  have  done  honor  to  any  stage.  The 
words  made  his  heart  leap  up,  although  all  the  outward  sign 
he  gave  was  to  turn  very  slowly  and  very  deliberately,  as  if 
uncertain  from  which  direction  the  sibilant  sounds  came. 
He  heard  his  name  repeated  in  a  still  more  emphatic  man- 
ner before  his  eyes  met  those  of  Jem  Collingham,  who  was 
hanging  over  the  fragile  green  wooden  balcony  of  "  Maison- 
ette" at  apparent  risk  to  that  aesthetic  structure  and  her 
own  limbs.  She  made  various  gestures  to  him  to  come  into 
the  house;  and  as  he  hesitated,  she  disappeared,  and,  rush- 
ing out  of  the  front  door,  met  him  excitedly  at  the  gate. 

"Come  in,  come  in  for  one  moment,"  cried  she,  in  en- 
treaty. "  Never  mind  the  children.  And  please  excuse  my 
being  so  untidy.  You  don't  know  what  it  is  to  have  to 
mind  five  children  when  there's  no  governess  and  the  nurse 
is  out!" 

"It  looks  as  if  the  task  were  rather  formidable!"  said 
Hugh,  as  he  glanced  from  the  girl's  pretty  face  to  the  troop 
of  small  stepbrothers  and  stepsisters  who  had  tumultu- 
ously  followed  her  out.  "I  can't  come  in,"  he  went  on 
plaintively,  "because  Mrs.  Collingham  might  come  back, 
and  I've  just  got  myself  into  such  hot  water  with  her  that 
I  shall  never  get  out  again." 

"Oh,  that's  nothing,"  said  Jem,  as  she  threw  open  the 
gate  and  caught  a  couple  of  infantile  stragglers  in  the  act 


216  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

of  making  for  the  road.  "  Everybody  gets  into  hot  water 
with  mamma,  but  it's  always  easy  to  get  out.  She'll  for- 
get it  by  the  time  she  sees  you  again." 

"  But  she  thinks — of  course  I  didn't  say  anything  of 
the  kind — but  she  thinks  I  said  that  Gerard  was  in  ques- 
tionable hands  while  she  nursed  him." 

"It's  quite  true,"  said  Jem,  sighing.  "Poor  Gerard! 
I've  been  wondering  all  day  how  long  he'd  stand  it!  Come 
in  and  tell  me  everything.  How — how  is  he?" 

Hugh  did  not  know  whether  to  be  touched  or  annoyed  by 
the  feeling  she  showed  in  voice  and  eyes  at  the  mention  of 
Gerard.  He  did  not  give  her  any  hint  of  his  own  suspi- 
cions, but  said  that  he  had  persuaded  the  invalid  to  prom- 
ise to  come  away  with  him  in  a  day  or  two.  Jem's  lip 
quivered. 

"  You  are  quite  right.  He  will  be  better  with  you,"  she 
said,  in  a  broken  voice.  "  But  oh,  it  will  seem  so  hard  for 
him  to  go  away !  You  will  let  me  hear  how  he  gets  on, 
won't  you?" 

Hugh  was  quite  sure  that  he  was  annoyed  this  time.  It 
was  ridiculous  of  this  girl  to  make  such  a  fuss  about  a  man 
who  never  spared  a  thought  for  her.  He  said  stiffly,  and 
not  without  some  sign  of  impatience,  that  no  doubt  Mrs. 
Collingham  would  be  able  to  give  her  what  information  she 
wanted.  Jem  noticed  the  change  in  his  tone,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment she  became  awkward  and  shy.  They  had  by  this  time 
all  got  inside  the  house  and  swarmed  into  the  dining-room, 
where  the  elder  children  engaged  in  making  a  scrap-book, 
and  where,  in  consequence,  the  floor  and  the  furniture  were 
slimy  with  paste,  and  colored  pictures  were  scattered  about 
the  apartment  like  leaves  after  a  storm. 

"Don't  sit  down,"  entreated  Jem.  "Willie,  bring  Mr. 
Thorndyke  a  chair  out  of  the  drawing-room — not  the  one 
papa  mended,  mind." 


A  STARTLING  PROPOSITION.  217 

"You  needn't  take  all  this  trouble  for  me,"  said  Hugh, 
as  he  made  himself  a  clear  corner  among  the  scraps  and  sat 
on  the  table.  "  You  mustn't  stay  a  moment ;  but  I  thought 
you'd  like  to  know  that  I've  found  out  where  Mrs.  Hilliard 
is — at  least,  I  think  so." 

Jem  flew  at  him.  Standing  before  him  with  sparkling 
eyes  and  parted  lips,  she  told  him  how  anxious  she  had  been 
for  the  past  month,  and  how  she  thought  he  had  forgotten 
his  promise  to  let  her  know  the  sequel  to  her  visit  to  town. 
Had  nothing  happened  at  the  house  near  Victoria  Station 
which  they  had  seen  Linley  enter?  Why  had  he  not  writ- 
ten? Why  had  he  not  come  down?  These  and  a  dozen 
other  questions  Jem  poured  out  rapidly,  while  the  children 
clung,  open-mouthed,  to  her  skirts,  and  formed  a  wonder- 
ing audience. 

Hugh  answered  with  discreet  reserve.  Nothing  in  par- 
ticular had  happened,  he  at  first  maintained.  But  under 
the  pressure  of  her  questionings,  of  her  vigorous  disbelief, 
he  presently  broke  down ;  and  it  ended  in  his  confiding  to 
her  not  only  the  suspicious  circumstance  discovered  by  the 
detective,  but  all  the  other  details  with  which  he  was  ac- 
quainted concerning  Liuley's  antecedents  and  his  own 
discovery  that  that  person  was  not  above  cheating  at 
cards. 

Jem  listened,  with  clasped  hands,  without  uttering  a 
word :  even  the  discovery  that  the  Hilliards  were  using  a 
name  which  was  not  their  own  failed  to  draw  from  her  a 
single  exclamation.  When  he  had  finished,  she  drew  a  long 
breath : 

"Does  he  mean  to  murder  them  both  for  the  sake  of 
the  insurance  money?"  she  asked,  with  the  bluntness  of  the 
very  young,  shocking  Hugh,  who  had  used  all  sorts  of 
euphemisms  rather  than  face  the  fact  in  all  its  bare  hid- 
eousness. 


218  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  of  course  we  don't  know  that — we  don't 
know  anything ;  but  one  can  hardly  help  having  suspi- 
cions." 

"  I  should  think  not,  indeed !  The  wretch !"  retorted  Jem, 
hotly.  By  this  time  the  children  had  tired  of  the  novelty 
of  gazing  at  the  stranger,  and  were  performing  acrobatic 
feats  on  the  hearth-rug,  so  that  Jem  could  speak  freely. 
"  You  know  her  address,  you  say?  And  she's  at  Hastings? 
Of  course  you  will  go  down  and  see  her?" 

"Well,"  said  Hugh,  diffidently,  "you  see  I  am  in  a  diffi- 
cult position.  Don't  you  see  that  as  her  husband  practi- 
cally kicked  me  out  for  speaking  to  his  wife,  I  should  do 
her  harm  rather  than  good  by  seeing  her  again?  You  see 
it  would  give  her  husband  a  handle " 

Jem  nodded  vigorously.  She  was  frowning  and  biting 
her  lips,  the  picture  of  earnest  thought. 

"You  ought  to  see  her  again,  though!"  she  said  slowly. 
"  You  might  persuade  her — you  who  have  known  her  so 
long — to  go  away  where  her  horrid  husband  couldn't  find 
her;  and  then,"  pursued  Jem  cheerfully,"  you  could  give 
information  to  the  police  and  have  him  put  in  prison,  and 
then  he  wouldn't  trouble  her  or  anybody  any  more!" 

Hugh  could  not  help  smiling  at  this  ingenuous  conclu- 
sion. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  said  he,  "  that  it  can't  be  managed  as  eas- 
ily as  you  think.  In  the  first  place,  I  haven't  any  idea  how 
I  am  to  communicate  with  her.  If  I  write " 

"That  won't  be  any  good,"  interrupted  Jem.  "You 
must  see  her — go  down  and  see  her.  I  have  an  idea." 

"Yes?" 

"  Take  me  with  you !" 

Hugh  was  taken  aback.  He  looked  at  her  rather  help- 
lessly. 

"Take— take  you!" 


A  STARTLING  PROPOSITION.  219 

"  Yes.  I  have  two  old  aunts  living  at  St.  Leonards ;  you 
can  take  me  to  see  them." 

Hugh  was  bewildered  by  this  proposition. 

"But,"  he  objected  mildly,  "Mrs.  Collingham  would 
never " 

"Let  me  go  with  you?  Oh,  yes,  she  would.  Say  you're 
engaged  to  me.  You  can  be,  you  know,  until  we've  seen 
that  Mrs.  Milliard  is  all  right,  and  then  we'll  break  it  off. 
And  mamma  will  never  know  what  it  was  for." 

Hugh  tried  in  vain  to  hide  the  fact  that  he  was  over- 
whelmed with  astonishment,  and  a  feeling  not  altogether 
pleasurable  that  Miss  Collingham  thought  he   "didn't 
count."    Jem  perceived  this,  and  blushed. 

"I — I'm  afraid  you  think  me  a  'forward  minx,'  but  I 
can't  help  that,"  she  said,  laughing  shyly.  "I  don't  care 
what  I  do  to  get  at  Mrs.  Hilliard.  I " 

"  But  I  don't  think  anything  of  the  sort,"  broke  in  Hugh 
quickly.  "I  only  wondered  whether  Mrs.  Collingham 
would  allow  you  to  go,  whatever  reason  you  gave." 

"  Oh,  mamma  will  make  no  objection,  I  know.  She  is  only 
anxious  to  get  rid  of  me.  Now  let  us  settle  our  plans,"  she 
went  on,  "  for  I  expect  papa  home.  Willie,  get  the  Brad- 
shaw  out  of  the  hall,  will  you?" 

The  baby,  a  large  and  aggressive  female,  whose  attacks  on 
the  property  and  limbs  of  her  brothers  and  sisters  kept  the 
family  in  a  constant  uproar,  at  this  point  screamed  loudly. 
Jem  took  her  up  and  consoled  her  with  caresses  for  the  well- 
merited  punishment  one  of  her  sisters  had  inflicted,  while 
Hugh  hunted  out  a  convenient  train. 

"When  their  arrangements  for  the  following  day  were 
made  and  Jem  gave  him  her  hand  in  farewell,  he  lingered 
one  moment  and  looked  down  into  her  pretty  face  with 
embarrassment,  which  caused  her  to  ask  what  was  the 
matter. 


220  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Nothing,"  answered  he  quickly,  "except  that — that  it 
may  not  be  so  easy  for  me  to — to — to — catch  the  train !" 

This  was  not  what  he  had  meant  to  say — that  was  evi- 
dent. He  felt  that  he  was  on  dangerous  ground,  and  be- 
fore Jem  could  do  more  than  glance  at  him  with  a  look  of 
haughty  indignation  he  was  gone. 


CHAPTEK  XXIX. 

LINLEY   SCORES. 

"  THE  worst  of  it  is  that  there's  no  bringing  it  home  to 
the  rascal!" 

These  were  the  words  in  which  Hugh  summed  up  his  re- 
grets on  the  subject  of  Linley  Milliard  as  he  and  Jem  Col- 
lingham  sat  in  the  train  which  was  carrying  them  down  to 
Hastings,  on  the  morning  after  Hugh's  visit  to  Wimbledon. 

Jem  sighed.  But  she  was  more  hopeful  than  her  com- 
panion. It  seemed  to  her  young  and  innocent  mind  that 
wickedness  like  Linley 's  could  not  go  unpunished  much 
longer.  Hugh  had  lived  longer  and  seen  considerably  more 
of  the  world,  and  he  tried  to  put  her  right. 

"In  my  experience,"  said  he,  "no  very  great  scoundrel 
ever  does  get  punished.  It's  the  half-and-half  fellows, 
those  that  have  a  little  bit  of  a  conscience,  or  a  weakness 
for  somebody  or  other  besides  themselves,  that  get  caught 
and  convicted.  If  you  don't  care  a  straw  for  anybody  in 
the  world  but  yourself,  you  can  generally  save  your  own 
skin  and  cheat  the  gallows.  That's  rather  coarsely  put, 
I'm  afraid,  and  it  shocks  you ;  but  it's  very  near  the  truth." 

Jem  listened,  but  remained  unconvinced.  She  did  not 
say  much,  having  been  overtaken  by  the  shyness  which  al- 
ternated with  her  astounding  fits  of  audacity. 

The  engagement  into  which  she  had  entered  on  the  pre- 
vious evening,  with  the  rash  recklessness  which  had  so  much 
astonished  Hugh,  had  already  landed  her  in  troubles  which 
she  had  not  anticipated.  To  begin  with,  Mrs.  Collingham 
had  shown  such  demonstrative  joy  when  Jem  told  her  that 


222  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

she  had  become  engaged  to  Hugh  Thorndyke  that  Jem 
dreaded  the  terrible  reaction  which  would  set  in  when,  ac- 
cording to  compact,  she  "broke  it  off"  on  her  return  from 
Hastings.  In  the  second  place,  the  girl  found  that  this 
arrangement,  which  she  had  herself  proposed  without  suffi- 
cient thought,  made  her  feel  awkward  and  constrained  with 
Hugh  himself.  She  had  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that  the 
remembrance  of  their  supposed  relationship  to  each  other 
was  always  in  his  mind,  although  he  was  forbearing  enough 
not  to  make  any  allusion  to  it;  and  she  even  fancied  that 
she  detected  in  his  manner  a  tinge  of  unusual  reserve,  which 
she  took  to  imply  a  feeling  of  distrust  at  her  unmaidenly 
forwardness. 

By  the  time  the  train  reached  Tunbridge  Wells,  where 
the  two  other  passengers  in  their  compartment  got  out,  con- 
versation between  Jem  and  her  fiance  had  become  first  diffi- 
cult and  then  impossible,  so  that  there  was  no  mistaking 
the  horror  on  the  girl's  face  when  she  found  that  she  and 
her  companion  were  to  be  left  alone  together.  Hugh,  with- 
out realizing  the  keenness  of  the  young  girl's  feelings,  un- 
derstood their  nature. 

"Shall  I  go  away  and  smoke?  There's  a  smoking  com- 
partment next  door,"  said  he,  thinking  the  proposition 
would  find  favor  in  her  eyes.  But  the  ways  and  the 
thoughts  of  the  young  and  innocent  are  perverse  and  in- 
scrutable, and  Jem  colored  and  grew  stiff. 

"Oh,  yes;  pray  go,  if  I  bore  you!"  said  she  quickly,  as 
she  drew  herself  back  on  her  seat.  Poor  Hugh  looked  abso- 
lutely thunderstruck.  He  hastily  sat  down  again.  He 
could  not  at  all  understand  why  Jem's  cheerful  camaraderie 
had  disappeared,  and  wondered  whether  it  was  through  any 
unconscious  fault  in  his  own  manner. 

"  I  only  thought  that  perhaps  you  would  prefer  to  get  rid 
of  me  for  the  next  hour,"  he  explained  humbly,  yet  not 


LINLET  SCORES.  223 

without  a  suggestion  in  his  manner  of  the  slight  annoyance 
he  felt.  "  I  think — I  am  afraid  you  are  rather  disposed, 
Miss  Collingham,  to  be  sorry  you  chose  to  accept  my — to 
embarL  on  this — in  fact  to  carry  out  our " 

He  was  floundering  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  mire.  Jem 
stole  a  glance  at  him,  and  then  the  humor  of  the  situation 
struck  her;  her  consequent  good  humor  spread  to  him,  and 
they  both  laughed  heartily,  if  rather  consciously,  at  the 
oddity  of  their  situation,  and  at  their  inability  to  rise 
properly  to  its  requirements.  Then,  a  friendlier  footing 
having  been  established,  Jem  rashly  entered  into  explana- 
tions. 

"I  was  afraid,"  she  began  with  a  catch  in  her  breath, 
"  that  is,  I  thought — that — that  you  thought  me  horribly 
forward  in — in  making  the  proposal — no,  no,  I  mean  the 
suggestion,  the  arrangement  I  suggested,  arranged,  last 
night.  I  thought  that — that — that  was  why  you  were — so, 
so  cold — no,  no,  I  mean  so  reserved,  so — so  different — that 
is  to  say,  this  morning." 

Then  she  stopped  short,  having  made  things  infinitely 
worse.  And  she  began  to  unfasten  one  of  her  gloves,  and 
to  fasten  it  up  again,  with  a  crimson  face. 

Hugh  felt  that  things  were  becoming  interesting. 

"Different!"  he  exclaimed,  with  enthusiasm.  "Why, 
that  is  just  what  I  was  thinking  about  you.  And  I  was 
obliged  to  take  your  cue — don't  you  see? — for  fear  you 
should  think  I  was  presuming  upon  our — our — compact, 
our  arrangement.  It  was  really  just  as  awkward  for  me, 
in  fact  more  so,  don't  you  see?  It  is  so  difficult  to  be 
exactly  right,  isn't  it?  Only  I'm  afraid  that  instead  I've 
been  exactly  wrong.  You  will  forgive  me,  won't  you?" 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course  I  must,  since  it  is  all  my  fault,"  an- 
swered Jem  hastily,  anxious  to  get  the  explanations  over,  as 
she  perceived  in  Hugh  a  tendency  to  overdo  his  humility 


324  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

and  become  inconveniently  abject.  "  Of  course  I  see  now 
that  I  ought  to  have  come  by  myself.  I  could  not  have 
persuaded  her  so  well  as  you,  but — but  still  I  think  perhaps 
it  would  have  been  better." 

"  I  don't,  though!"  exclaimed  Hugh  quickly.  "  I  think 
it's  very  likely  we  may  have  to  frighten  good  Mr.  Hilliard, 
and  I  can  do  that  better  than  you." 

They  took  care  to  keep  the  talk  going  after  that  on 
Linley  and  his  misdeeds,  so  that  the  remaining  hour  of  the 
journey  passed  without  further  difficulties. 

On  arriving  at  Hastings,  they  went  on  foot  to  the  ad- 
dress given  to  Hugh  by  the  footman.  It  was  a  house  up  a 
side  street,  not  far  from  the  sea.  Hugh  and  Jem  went  to 
the  door  together,  and  Jem  asked  for  Mrs.  Hilliard. 

"  I'll  see  if  you  can  see  her,  ma'am,"  said  the  woman  who 
op  ned  the  door.  "  But  she's  very  ill.  Mr.  Hilliard  is  with 
her,  ma'am;  perhaps  you'd  like  to  see  him?" 

As  she  spoke,  the  woman  threw  open  the  door  of  the  front 
room  on  the  ground  floor,  and  Jem,  who  had  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  horror  at  the  evil  tidings,  stood  transfixed 
on  seeing  Linley,  sitting  at  luncheon  by  himself,  reading  a 
newspaper  and  eating  at  the  same  time. 

It  was  evident  that  the  appearance  of  the  young  lady  took 
him  completely  by  surprise.  He  looked  up  with  a  slight 
start,  which  was  succeeded  by  a  gesture  still  more  marked 
when  he  caught  sight  of  her  companion.  There  was  an  ex- 
pression on  the  faces  of  the  visitors  which  caused  the  very 
little  color  he  ever  had  in  his  cheeks  to  fade  precipitately 
as  Jem  walked  into  the  room,  and  Hugh  followed  without 
ceremony.  He  could  not  get  farther  than :  "  What !  Miss 
Collingham!  This  is  a  delightful  surprise  indeed!"  before 
Jem,  who  did  not  attempt  to  take  his  outstretched  hand, 
broke  in : 

«  Mrs.  Hilliard !    111!    Where  is  she?" 


LINLET  SCORES.  225 

Linley  began  to  tremble,  as  he  always  did  when  he  was 
offended  or  hurt. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  cannot  see  her,"  he  said  in  a  little,  minc- 
ing tone.  "  She's  very  seriously  ill,  much  too  ill  to  re- 
ceive visitors;  and,  in  fact,  I  have  too  much  to  do  nursing 
her  and  looking  after  her  to  care  to  receive  them  myself 
just  now.  As  for  you,  sir,"  and  he  turned,  with  a  very 
insulting  manner  toward  Hugh,  "  I  should  have  thought, 
after  my  last  reception  of  you,  that  you  would  have  thought 
twice  before  intruding  upon  me  again." 

Hugh  answered  in  a  very  low  voice.  He  did  not  want  a 
row,  in  the  presence  of  Jem,  in  the  house  where  Netelka 
was  perhaps  lying  ill.  But  he  had  got  to  let  this  man  see 
that  he  was  not  going  to  be  allowed  to  murder  two  people 
with  impunity. 

"For  your  own  sake,"  he  said  very  quietly,  very  deliber- 
ately, "  I  should  never  have  wanted  to  see  your  face  again. 
It  is  for  your  wife's  sake  I  am  here — hers  and  Gerard 
Waller's." 

A  sound  in  the  adjoining  room  caused  Jem  to  look  round 
and  watch  the  door  between  the  two  rooms.  Believing, 
as  she  did,  that  Netelka  was  in  the  adjoining  apartment, 
she  would  have  entered  it  unceremoniously  before  this,  but 
that  Linley  took  care  to  keep  between  her  and  the  door. 
Hugh  went  on: 

"  I  know  who  you  are,  Linley  Dax ;  and  if  either  your  wife 
or  young  Waller  should  die  within  the  next  few  months,  I 
will  undertake  to  say  that  the  money  for  which  you  insured 
their  lives  will  not  be  paid." 

Again  from  the  next  room  there  was  a  sound.  This  time 
it  was  like  a  stifled  cry.  Jem  burst  into  tears. 

"  Oh,  let  me  see  her,  let  me  see  her !"  she  cried  piteously, 
advancing  toward  Linley,  who  had  turned  livid,  and  who 
was  engrossed  by  a  sense  of  deep  personal  injury  as  he  re- 
15 


226  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

plied  to  Hugh's  threat.  He  was  so  much  agitated  that  he 
was  quite  hysterical.  He  seemed  broken  down  under  this 
outrage. 

"You  infamous,  insulting  man!  You  detestable  spy!" 
he  exclaimed,  like  an  angry  woman,  as  he  held  the  handle 
of  the  door,  looking  the  picture  of  helpless  indignation. 
"  How  dare  you  come  and  say  such  things  to  me !  How  dare 
you  accuse  me  of  wanting  to — to — to  murder  anybody! 
Why,  I  wouldn't  hurt  a  fly,  as  everybody  knows.  Miss  Col- 
lingham,  it's  shameful  for  you  to  come  with  him  and  allow 
him  to  say  such  things!  It's  enough  to  kill  my  poor  wife 
outright  to  hear  such  things  said!" 

And  the  glance  he  gave  toward  the  door  showed  Jem  that 
her  suspicions  were  correct:  Netelka  was  in  the  next  room. 
But  Hugh  stood  firm,  and  raising  his  voice  slightly  and 
speaking  with  great  emphasis,  said : 

"  Then,  if  your  wife  can  hear  me,  let  her  hear  this:  that 
every  day  she  passes  under  the  same  roof  with  you  in- 
creases not  only  her  own  danger,  but  the  danger  for  Gerard 
"Waller,  whom  I  saw  yesterday  in  almost  a  dying  condi- 
tion." 

There  was  a  moan,  and  then  a  sound  as  of  some  one  fall- 
ing against  the  door.  A  moment  later,  Netelka's  face,  white 
as  death,  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"Dying!  Gerard  Waller  dying!"  she  stammered.  Be- 
fore she  could  utter  another  word  her  husband  had  pushed 
her  back  into  the  bedroom  and  shut  the  door. 

"I  insist,"  said  he,  querulously,  turning  to  Hugh,  "on 
your  leaving  the  house  this  minute.  Your  presence  is  dis- 
turbing my  wife,  who  is  in  no  fit  state  to  hear  such  things 
as  you  have  been  saying.  If  you  insist  on  remaining,  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  send  round  to  her  doctor  to  order  you 
out." 

While  he  was  speaking,  Jem  seized  the  opportunity  she 


LINLET  SCORES.  227 

fancied  she  perceived  of  communicating  with  Netelka. 
Slipping  out  of  the  sitting-room  into  the  passage,  she 
knocked  at  the  door  of  the  adjoining  apartment.  At  first 
there  was  no  answer.  She  knocked  again,  with  the  same 
result. 

"Mrs.  Hilliard,  won't  you  let  me  in;  won't  you  let  me 
speak  to  you?"  she  asked,  putting  her  lips  close  to  the  key- 
hole. She  heard  a  sob  for  answer,  and,  rendered  desperate, 
she  tried  to  open  the  door. 

It  was  locked. 

Jem  rattled  the  handle,  and  then,  to  her  joy,  she  heard 
some  one  coming  toward  it.  The  key  was  turned,  the  door 
was  flung  wide,  and  she  found  herself  face  to  face  with — 
Linley ! 

In  her  surprise,  Jem  uttered  a  cry  and  stepped  back. 
Linley  laughed  disagreeably. 

"You  wanted  to  see  my  wife?"  said  he,  in  a  mock- 
ing tone.  "  Well,  she  and  I  have  no  secrets  from  each 
other.  Come,  Netelka,  and  tell  this  persistent  young  lady 
so." 

With  a  strong  hand,  he  half-dragged,  half-led  Netelka 
into  view. 

"  Tell  her,  tell  her,  my  dear,  whether  you  want  any  out- 
side interference,  or  whether  you  are  satisfied  with  the  care 
of  your  husband." 

Netelka,  who  was  pale  and  trembling,  and  who,  in  her 
white  dressing-gown,  looked  like  a  fleshless  phantom 
rather  than  a  woman,  tried  to  smile. 

"I  am  quite,  quite  safe;  thank  you,  dear,"  she  said 
gently  in  the  weak,  husky  voice  of  an  invalid,  "  quite,  quite 
safe" — then,  as  Linley  laid  his  left  hand  on  her  arm,  as 
if  prompting  her,  she  added  in  a  whisper — "  with  my  hus- 
band." 

Jem,  who  could  not  trust  herself  to  speak,  sprang  for- 


228  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

ward  and  kissed  her  friend,  putting  both  arms  around  her 
neck.  Then,  with  one  long  look  into  Netelka's  eyes,  and 
without  so  much  as  a  glance  at  Linley,  she  quickly  with- 
drew. Hugh  was  waiting  for  her  at  the  hall-door. 

They  both  heard  Linley 's  mocking  laugh  as  they  went 
out  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

AN  AWKWARD  POSITION. 

IN  her  misery  at  her  friend's  misfortune,  poor  Jem  grew 
confiding  and  unreserved,  and  allowed  herself  to  be  consoled 
quite  tenderly  by  Hugh. 

"Oh,  what  will  become  of  her?  What  will  become  of 
her?  He  won't  dare  to  murder  her  now,  will  he?  Won't 
he  be  afraid  of  being  had  up  for  it,  now  that  he  knows 
you've  learned  his  other  name?"  cried  Jem,  not  waiting 
for  an  answer  to  one  question  before  she  quavered  out 
another. 

Hugh  answered  with  reserve.  He  thought  he  had  never, 
in  a  pretty  wide  experience  of  the  ne'er-do-wells  whom 
England  ships  off  to  her  colonies  with  a  few  pounds  in  their 
pockets  in  the  hope  that  "  roughing  it"  will  purge  them  of 
original  sin,  met  quite  such  a  perfect  specimen  of  what  a 
man  ought  not  to  be  as  the  white-handed  Linley.  Having 
already  proved  himself  to  be  resourceful,  Netelka's  hus- 
band would,  it  was  to  be  feared,  find  a  way  out  of  this  new 
difficulty,  as  he  had  done  out  of  his  old  ones. 

"  It  will  be  his  wife's  fault  if  she  doesn't  get  away  now," 
he  answered.  "  She  has  been  warned.  Unhappily,  he  still 
seems  to  have  a  great  influence  over  her.  I  can't  under- 
stand it." 

"  Then  do  you  think  our  coming  has  done  more  harm  than 
good?"  asked  Jem,  despairingly. 

"  We'll  hope  not,"  said  Hugh,  affecting  more  cheerfulness 
than  he  felt.  "  Of  course,  if  they  stay  on  there,  he  won't 
dare  to — to  play  any  tricks.  The  fear  is  that  he  may  have 


230  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

enough  influence  over  her  to  get  her  to  go  away  with  him 
to  some  other  place  where  she  will  be  out  of  our  reach." 

"  Can't  you  have  him  arrested  now,  before  he  has  time 
to  do  any  harm?"  said  Jem,  impulsively. 

Hugh  laughed. 

"What  for?"  asked  he,  shaking  his  head.  "No,  don't 
you  see  that  we  are  absolutely  without  proof  of  any  sort 
against  him  ?  That  although  we  know  him  to  be  up  to  his 
eyes  in  evil-doing,  we  haven't  a  scrap  of  evidence,  real  evi- 
dence, that  we  could  found  a  case  upon?" 

"  But  the  trial?" 

"  He  was  acquitted.  Another  accusation  of  the  same  sort 
would  have  to  be  backed  by  much  stronger  evidence  than 
the  first,  or  it  would  be  put  down  to  prejudice :  and  that 
would  tell  in  his  favor." 

Discussing  the  matter  very  gloomily,  and  deeply  absorbed 
by  it,  Hugh  and  Jem  approached  the  residence  of  the  Misses 
Ponsonby,  Jem's  aunts,  with  slow  footsteps  and  with  anx- 
ious faces.  They  did  not  notice,  as  they  drew  near  the  gate 
of  the  pretty  detached  house,  with  its  trim  drive  and  little 
bit  of  velvet  lawn,  that  the  two  elderly  ladies  were  watch- 
ing at  one  of  the  windows  with  faces  full  of  interest — nay, 
more,  of  excitement. 

Scarcely  had  Jem  and  her  escort  reached  the  top  of  the 
tessellated  steps  when  Hugh,  who  was  raising  his  hat  pre- 
paratory to  leaving  Jem,  was  startled  to  see  the  front  door 
open  quickly  and  Miss  Lilian  and  Miss  Muriel  Ponsonby 
flutter  out  with  beaming  faces. 

"Dear  child!  Dear  Jemima!"  cried  Lilian,  who  was  the 
elder,  the  taller,  and  perhaps  the  sweeter-looking  of  the  two. 

And  she  threw  her  arms  round  Jem's  neck  and  kissed  her 
affectionately,  while  her  sister  extended  both  hands,  with  a 
welcoming  smile,  to  Hugh. 

"Dear  Mr.  Thorndyke!"  chirped  the  little  lady  sweetly, 


AN  AWKWARD  POSITION.  231 

as  she  smiled  up  at  him  and  offered  her  little  dried  cheek, 
growing  pink  as  she  did  so.  "  We  welcome  you.  We  are 
most  proud  and  delighted  to  know  our  dear  Jem's  future 
husband." 

The  young  people  were  thunderstruck.  They  had  noth- 
ing to  say  for  themselves.  A  more  abject  picture  of  help- 
less confusion  and  dismay  was  never  presented.  Of  course, 
however,  their  inarticulate  condition  passed  with  the  sim- 
ple-minded elderly  ladies  for  modest  confusion  of  the  most 
graceful  and  becoming  sort;  and  in  spite  of  Hugh's  plain- 
tive assurances  that  he  could  not  stay,  that  he  had  friends 
waiting  for  him  in  the  town,  and  other  futilities,  he  found 
himself  gently  inducted  into  the  drawing-room,  which 
had  been  freshly  decorated  with  the  choicest  flowers  of  the 
conservatory  in  honor  of  the  supposed  betrothal. 

"  Your  dear  mother  sent  us  a  telegram  this  morning  to 
tell  us  of  the  great  pleasure  that  was  in  store  for  us,"  said 
Miss  Lilian  to  Jem,  as  she  took  off  the  girl's  hat  and  lov- 
ingly smoothed  back  the  pretty  fair  hair.  "  And  we've  been 
in  such  a  state  of  excitement  ever  since  that  we've  scarcely 
been  able  to  settle  down  to  anything.  Your  dear  Aunt 
Muriel  has  made  herself  quite  ill  over  it — she  has  indeed." 

"  No,  no,  my  dear  Jemima,  I  can't  have  you  think  me 
so  silly  as  that,"  cried  Miss  Muriel,  as  she  gently  took 
poor  Hugh's  hat  and  umbrella  away  from  him,  and  left  him 
helpless.  "  But  it  was  really  a  very  great  pleasure,  and  a 
great  surprise  too ;  for  I  assure  you,  my  dear  Mr.  Thorn- 
dyke,  that  dear  Jemima  and  her  dear  mother  have  kept  the 
secret  so  wonderfully  well  that  we  hadn't  the  least  idea  that 
the  dear  girl  cared  for  any  one  at  all.  I  do  hope  you  will 
make  her  very  happy." 

Hugh  had  turned  from  crimson  to  purple  during  this 
speech,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  incoherently  mum- 
bled something  in  answer  would  have  seemed  mysteriously 


232  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

morose  and  unsatisfactory  to  the  good  ladies  if  they  had  not 
been  so  determined  to  like  him  very  much  as  to  be  without 
heart  for  criticism.  Fortunately  the  ladies  talked  BO  much 
that  only  the  shortest  of  remarks  and  answers  were  neces- 
sary on  the  part  of  the  young  people. 

From  ordeal  to  ordeal  poor  Jem  stumbled,  however. 
The  questions  with  which  her  aunts  attacked  her  when  they 
took  her  upstairs  to  take  her  hat  off  were  extremely  diffi- 
cult to  meet.  "How  did  the  engagement  come  about? 
And  when?  How  long  had  they  known  each  other?  Who 
were  his  'people'?  Did  she  not  love  him  very  much? 
When  were  they  to  be  married?" 

At  this  last  question  Jem  broke  down,  and  shocked 
Muriel,  the  younger  and  primmer  aunt,  the  one  who  had 
never  had  a  love  affair,  by  saying  that  she  did  not  know  yet 
whether  she  should  marry  him  at  all.  This  terrible  flip- 
pancy, as  it  seemed  to  the  ladies,  drew  down  upon  her  a  lec- 
ture, which  frightened  her  so  much  that  she  dared  not 
make  any  protest  when  they  said  that  they  must  insist 
upon  his  staying  there  that  night  as  well  as  herself. 

It  is  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at,  under  these  circum- 
stances, that  luncheon,  as  far  as  the  young  people  were  con- 
cerned, proved  a  dull  affair,  or  that  they  became  unaccount- 
ably shy  toward  each  other,  and  addressed  their  conversa- 
tion entirely  to  the  aunts.  The  Misses  Ponsonby — dear  in- 
nocent ladies !  — came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  had  quar- 
relled on  their  way  down,  and  they  contrived  a  tete-a-tete 
for  them  to  "make  it  up." 

So  it  came  about  that,  shortly  after  luncheon,  Jem  and 
Hugh  found  themselves  alone  together  in  the  garden,  look- 
ing at  the  roses  and  geraniums  and  the  white  Madonna 
lilies,  with  little  appreciation  of  their  beauty  and  fragrance. 

"This  is  awful,  isn't  it?  And  it's  all  my  fault!"  said 
poor  Jem,  half  crying,  as  she  bent  over  a  rose-tree. 


AN  AWKWARD  POSITION.  233 

"  For  you — yes,"  answered  Hugh  softly,  taking  advantage 
of  his  supposed  relation  to  her  to  put  his  head  very  near 
hers,  even  while  he  made  this  apologetic  remark. 

He  had  begun  to  feel  that  even  a  spurious  engagement  to 
this  very  nice  girl  was  better  than  none  at  all,  and  he  was 
troubling  himself  seriously  about  the  terrible  necessity, 
which  would  presently  arise,  of  breaking  it  off  again. 

"  Of  course  I  never  thought  mamma  would  telegraph — 
such  a  long  telegram  it  must  have  been  too !  Why,  it  must 
have  cost  half  a  crown  to  say  all  that,"  went  on  Jem,  be- 
tween hysterical  tears  and  hysterical  laughter.  "  I  don't 
know  what  to  say  to  you.  It  makes  me  look  so  silly.  I'm 
ashamed  to  look  you  in  the  face." 

She  did  look  him  in  the  face,  though  askance,  with  a 
slight  blush.  Hugh  grew  meeker,  more  apologetic  than 
ever. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind — in  fact,  I  rather  like — I  mean  you 
need  not  trouble  yourself  about  me.  I  only  wish " 

Jem  cut  him  short  in  a  great  hurry. 

"  Of  course  I  can't  stay  here  all  night,  as  I  meant  to  do. 
I  couldn't  stand  it,  for  they  will  talk  always  of  the  same 
thing,  and  at  last  I  shall  break  down  and  tell  them  the 
truth.  I  know  I  shall!" 

"I  shouldn't  do  that,"  said  Hugh  quickly.  "They  are 
old-fashioned,  you  know,  and  they  would  be — would 

"  Disgusted  with  me !  Oh,  yes,  you  can  say  it  right  out, 
for  I  know  it's  true  and  that  I  deserve  it.  Poor  aunties! 
If  they  only  knew!  They  would  never  want  to  see  me 
again. " 

Jem  wiped  her  eyes  furtively,  and  Hugh  was  miserable 
to  see  her  misery. 

"Don't  cry — I  shouldn't  cry,"  said  he  very  tenderly, 
very  sympathetically  indeed.  "  After  all,  what  harm  have 


234  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

you  done?  Only  what  lots  of  girls  think  nothing  of — 
getting  engaged  to  a  fellow  they  don't  much  care  about, 
just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing !" 

"It  wasn't  for  the  fun  of  the  thing!  How  can  you  say 
so?"  cried  she  indignantly;  and  as  she  looked  up,  a  big  tear 
rolled  down  her  face.  "  I  did  it  without  thinking — I  never 
supposed  there  would  be  all  this  fuss  made — I  only  thought 
how  I  could  help  Netelka!  And  to  think  that  I — I  have 
done  her  no  good,  and — and  perhaps  harm.  Oh,  it's  too 
dreadful !  I  feel  as  if  I  should  like  to  throw  myself  into 
the  se-e-e-e-ea!" 

By  this  time  she  was  sobbing  passionately,  and  at  the  same 
time  taking  care  to  keep  Hugh  at  arm's  length  on  the  other 
side  of  the  rose-tree.  He  tried  to  comfort  her  at  this  re- 
spectful distance,  but  in  vain.  Suddenly  his  sympathetic 
words  ceased,  and  a  moment  later  Jem  felt  the  arm  of  her 
Aunt  Lilian  round  her  waist. 

"  My  dears,  I  couldn't  help  seeing  that  something  was 
wrong,  and  so  I  have  come  out,  not  to  interfere,  but  to  try 
to  set  it  right,"  said  her  soft  voice  close  to  the  ears  of  both 
the  alarmed  young  people.  "  If  there  has  been  some  slight 
misunderstanding,  some  little  cloud,  so  soon  between  you, 
don't  let  it  stay,  dears.  Believe  me,  I  have  suffered  myself, 
and  lost  a  precious  treasure  of  affection,  all  through  a  little 
quarrel  not  worthy  of  the  name.  Come,  Mr.  Thorndyke — • 
Hugh,  if  I  may  call  you  so — come  and  kiss  her,  and  tell  her 
you're  sorry.  You  see  I'm  bound  to  believe  it  was  the  other 
sex  that  was  in  the  wrong!" 

As  she  spoke,  Miss  Lilian,  every  line  on  whose  kind  face 
was  eloquent  of  gentleness  and  sweet  temper,  took  Hugh 
Thorndyke's  unresisting  hand  in  hers  and  drew  him  to- 
ward Jem,  whose  face  was  still  bent  down,  though  she  had 
dried  her  eyes. 

"Come,  kiss  her,"  repeated  Aunt  Lilian  gently;  then 


AN  AWKWARD  POSITION.  235 

turning  to  Jem,  she  added:  "  See,  dear,  he's  quite  ready  to 
make  it  up." 

Jem  raised  her  head  very  suddenly,  and  much  to  Hugh's 
surprise  and  relief,  she  put  her  pretty  blushing  face  into  a 
position  of  resigned  expectancy.  Very  diffidently  indeed, 
and  blushing  a  deeper  color  than  Jem  herself,  Hugh  stooped 
and  touched  her  cheek  with  his  lips. 

"There,  now,  you're  friends  again,  aren't  you?"  said  in- 
nocent Aunt  Lilian,  rejoicing  in  the  success  of  her  diplo- 
macy, and  attributing  the  manifest  constraint  of  both  par- 
ties to  the  amicable  arrangements  to  the  constraint  caused 
by  her  own  presence.  "  And  you  won't  quarrel  any  more?" 

"N-n-no,"  said  Jem,  as  she  promptly  turned  her  back 
upon  Hugh. 

"  And  now  I  want  you  to  help  me  find  some  roses  pretty 
enough  for  Jemima,"  said  Miss  Lilian.  "I'll  bring  you  a 
knife  and  a  basket,  Mr.  Thorndyke,  and  you  can  reach  some 
of  the  finest  ones  that  grow  near  the  top  of  the  wall." 

The  gentle  lady  tripped  across  the  lawn  toward  the  house, 
with  the  amiable  intention  of  allowing  the  young  people  to 
confirm  the  reconciliation  she  had  brought  about. 

Before,  however,  Jem  could  do  more  than  begin  to  laugh 
hysterically  at  this  climax  to  the  difficulties  she  had  brought 
upon  herself,  there  appeared  before  the  eyes  of  Hugh  and 
herself  a  spectacle  which  turned  their  thoughts  away  from 
themselves,  and  caused  them  to  forget  their  own  small 
troubles  in  the  great  dangers  of  a  friend. 

A  cab  drove  rapidly  past  on  its  way  to  the  station :  there 
was  luggage  on  the  top,  and  inside  they  saw  the  faces  of 
Netelka  and  her  husband. 

Jem  seized  Hugh's  arm  convulsively. 

"  He  is  taking  her  away  already,"  she  whispered  hoarsely, 
"and  we  don't  know  where!" 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

TWO  SIDES  TO   A  BABGALKT. 

JEM  stared  at  the  cab  which  was  rapidly  taking  Netelka 
away  in  the  suspicious  care  of  her  husband.  She  was  stu- 
pefied by  the  rapidity  of  Linley's  movements.  Suddenly 
she  turned  to  Hugh.  An  idea  had  struck  her. 

"  Mr.  Thorndyke,"  said  she,  "  will  you  go  to  the  station 
and  try  to  find  out  where  they  are  going?" 

That  this  was  a  forlorn  hope  he  knew,  for,  as  he  told 
Jem,  to  get  away  from  Hastings  they  would  certainly  go 
first  to  London.  Still  the  girl  insisted ;  and  Hugh,  think- 
ing that  she  was  anxious  to  get  rid  of  him,  fell  in  with  her 
wishes  and  started  off  for  the  station. 

"And  please  find  a  train  to  take  us  back  to-day,"  said 
she  as  he  started. 

Then  Jem  went  into  the  house  and  told  her  aunts 
frankly  that  she  would  have  to  go  back  that  evening,  as  she 
was  anxious  about  a  friend  whom  she  had  seen  that  morn- 
ing, and  who,  Jem  was  sure,  was  being  taken  away  before 
she  was  well  enough  to  travel.  Although  her  explanation 
came  as  a  surprise  to  the  ladies,  and  was  a  great  disappoint- 
ment to  them,  they  accepted  it,  having  themselves  noticed 
the  passing  cab  and  commented  on  the  fragile  appearance 
of  the  lady  inside  it. 

When  Hugh  came  back  from  the  station,  therefore,  with 
the  news  that  Linley  and  his  wife  had  booked  to  Charing 
Cross,  and  that  there  was  a  train  for  themselves  at  five-f  orty- 
five,  he  found  that  the  way  had  been  smoothed  for  their 
departure.  They  had  tea  in  the  pleasant  drawing-room, 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  BARGAIN.  237 

the  windows  of  which  opened  on  to  the  trimly  kept  garden ; 
and  all  would  have  gone  well  but  for  the  consciousness  which 
hung  over  the  young  people  that  there  was  a  two -hour 
journey  before  them,  spoiled  by  the  remembrance  of  that 
kiss. 

Not  that  to  Hugh  the  memory  of  that  incident  was 
fraught  with  acute  distress ;  the  unpleasant  part  of  the  af- 
fair, for  him,  lay  in  the  girl's  reluctance.  The  more  he 
was  in  Jem's  society  the  stronger  became  Hugh  Thorn- 
dyke's  conviction  that  this  impulsive,  warm-hearted,  un- 
affected, half -educated  girl  was  the  creature  he  would  choose 
to  go  through  the  rest  of  his  life  with.  She  was  so  open- 
hearted,  so  honest,  so  oddly  free  from  vanity  or  selfishness, 
that  she  came  nearer  to  his  ideal  of  what  a  woman  should  be 
than  girls  who  came  very  much  nearer  perfection  in  the 
minor  matters  of  reticence  and  demure  deportment.  But 
while  his  admiration  increased,  his  diffidence  increased  in 
the  same  degree.  If  she  had  been  heart-whole,  Hugh  would 
have  felt  no  qualms:  a  girl's  love  when  no  one  else  is  in 
possession  is  a  treasure  easy  to  win.  But  there  was  her 
stubborn  affection  for  Gerard  Waller,  which  no  indifference 
seemed  able  to  kill,  to  be  reckoned  with.  Hugh's  face  grew 
longer,  his  remarks  shorter,  as  these  reflections  passed 
through  his  mind. 

"  Strawberry  jam?  Oh,  yes,  it  has  always  been  one  of  my 
weaknesses."  While  these  words  were  on  his  lips,  this 
thought  was  in  his  heart:  " I've  got  two  hours  with  her  to- 
night. I  must  make  the  most  of  them!" 

Jem,  on  the  other  hand,  looked  upon  the  incident  of  the 
kiss  much  more  seriously.  She  had  never  been  kissed  be- 
fore, and  the  salute,  perfunctory  though  it  was,  seemed  to 
her  a  dishonoring  and  terrible  experience.  It  was  horrible 
to  have  to  endure  another  journey  with  the  inflicter  of  the 
outrage.  Jem  felt  suddenly  afraid  of  him.  The  conse- 


238  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

quence  of  this  feeling  on  her  part,  which  grew  stronger  as 
the  first  effects  of  the  sight  of  Netelka  died  away,  was  that 
she  grew  morose  and  silent,  starting  when  one  of  her  aunts 
addressed  her,  and  blushing  crimson,  with  an  expression  of 
alarm,  if  Hugh  came  near  her  or  even  glanced  in  her  direc- 
tion. 

Luckily  for  the  young  girl's  place  in  her  aunts'  esteem, 
they  were  ready  to  put  a  kindly  construction  upon  every 
eccentricity;  and  when  they  insisted  upon  accompanying 
their  guests  to  the  station,  to  see  them  start  on  their  jour- 
ney, they  both  declared  that  the  flying  visit  had  been  the 
happiest  event  they  had  known  for  years. 

"I  suppose,  my  dear  Jemima,"  said  Miss  Muriel,  who 
walked  with  her  niece,  leaving  Hugh  to  her  sister,  "  that 
the  day  of  your  marriage  is  hardly  settled  yet?" 

"Oh,  no,  no,"  gasped  Jem,  in  horror  which  passed  for 
maidenly  modesty.  "  I — I  haven't  thought  about  it.  I 
don't  want  to  be  married  for  years  and  years  yet!" 

Miss  Muriel  laughed,  and  said  archly  that  there  was 
some  one  else  to  be  considered.  And  she  glanced  at  Hugh, 
who  had  heard  poor  Jem's  answer,  and  who  was  moved  to 
real  pity  for  her  evident  distress.  An  answer  of  some  sort 
was  expected  from  him,  so  he  said,  with  a  deprecatory  look 
at  Jem : 

"  She  is  very  young,  Miss  Muriel,  and  she  doesn't  want 
to  think  that  she  may  not  change  her  mind." 

"  Change  her  mind!"  echoed  the  lady  with  some  asperity. 
"  Surely  you  don't  allow  her  to  contemplate  the  possibility 
of  doing  that!" 

There  was  a  second's  pause,  and  then  Hugh  said  very 
gently : 

"  I  would  rather  she  did  that  than — than  take  any  step 
she  would  repent  afterward." 

"  But  aren't  you  going  to  make  her  such  a  good  husband 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  BARGAIN.  239 

that  she  won't  be  able  to  think  of  such  a  thing  as  repent- 
ance?" persisted  Miss  Muriel. 

"There's  the  train!"  cried  Jem  shrilly  and  without  jus- 
tification, and  they  all  began  to  run. 

Of  course  the  aunts  found  an  empty  compartment  for 
their  interesting  visitors,  and  Jem  got  in,  grim  with  de- 
spair. A  tete-a-tete  all  the  way  up  to  Charing  Cross  with 
him !  The  prospect  had  quite  suddenly  become  full  of  terror. 

Even  the  Misses  Ponsonby  perceived  dimly  that  things 
were  not  quite  right  between  the  two ;  but  they  comforted 
themselves  as  they  walked  away,  after  waving  their  hands 
until  the  train  was  out  of  sight,  with  the  reflection  that 
they  would  "  make  it  up"  in  earnest  before  they  reached 
Charing  Cross. 

"He  is  a  charming  man,  is  he  not,  dear  Muriel?"  said 
Miss  Lilian  to  her  sister;  "and  he  seems  very  straightfor- 
ward and  good-tempered,  and  in  every  way  qualified  to 
make  our  dear  Jemima  happy." 

Miss  Muriel  was  a  shade  less  enthusiastic. 

"  Do  you  think,  dear  Lilian,"  she  said,  "  that  he  seems  to 
show  quite  enough  eagerness,  quite  enough  empressement  9 
I  think  when  I  was  a  girl  I  should  have  expected  rather 
more  demonstrativeness,  rather  more  of  a  kind  of  indefin- 
able something  in  my  fiance's  manner,  don 't  you  think  so, 
dear?" 

"  Well,  dear  Muriel,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  think  the 
indefinable  something  is  missing  in  dear  Jemima's  manner 
rather  than  dear  Hugh's,"  said  Miss  Lilian  with  the  tone  of 
authority  and  experience  in  these  matters  which  her  own 
love  affair  of  thirty  years  before  enabled  her  with  propriety 
to  speak. 

And  they  each  gave  a  gentle  sigh,  but  walked  home 
cheerfully,  with  the  conviction  that  all  would  come  right  in 
the  end. 


240  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

In  the  mean  time  the  journey  of  Jem  and  her  escort  had 
begun  unpromisingly  enough.  By  this  time  physical  fa- 
tigue had,  combined  with  mental  anxiety  on  Netelka's  ac- 
count and  distress  on  her  own,  to  reduce  the  young  girl  to 
a  condition  so  abject  that  she  sat  back  in  her  corner,  mute 
and  dejected,  hoping  Hugh  would  think  she  was  too  tired 
to  talk.  But  of  course  he  knew  better  than  that. 

"  Will  you  have  the  window  open  or  shut?  Or  half-open, 
like  this?"  he  asked,  when  they  had  got  out  of  the  station. 

"Oh,  open;  all  the  way  open,  please,"  answered  Jem 
quickly,  without  looking  at  him,  and  with  the  shy,  con- 
strained manner  which  she  had  quite  lost  in  his  society 
until  the  visit  to  her  aunts. 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  Hugh  gently,  "that  you  have  over- 
tired yourself.  I  have  never  known  you  so  silent  before. " 

Jem  laughed  shortly. 

"  I'm  rather  tired,"  said  she.  "  And  I  am  worried  about 
poor  Mrs.  Hilliard.  That  is  why  you  are  less  bored  than 
usual  with  my  conversation." 

Now  this  was  opening  enough  for  Hugh,  who  was  dying 
to  get  beyond  commonplace. 

"  Your  conversation  has  never  bored  me  yet,"  he  said. 
"  In  fact,  I  don't  think  you  have  felt  so  modest  about  it  be- 
fore. " 

Jem  sat  up,  and,  blushing  deeply,  spoke  with  gasping 
breath. 

"  I  have  never  before — at  least  with  you — had  so  much 
reason  to  speak  modestly,"  she  said,  with  the  tears  gather- 
ing in  her  eyes.  "  I  have  made  myself  ridiculous,  I  have." 

She  drew  a  long  breath  and  stopped. 

"You  have  passed  a  very  uncomfortable  day,  I  am 
afraid,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  which  was  meant  to  be  soothing 
and  consolatory,  but  which  had  a  precisely  opposite  effect 
upon  the  young  girl. 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  BARGAIN.  241 

She  interrupted  him  at  once. 

" I  have  indeed,"  she  said.  "  Of  course  I  know  it  was  all 
my  own  fault,  but — but — don't  let  us  talk  about  it;  it's 
all  over  now,  that's  one  comfort." 

And  she  drew  a  deep  breath,  this  time  of  relief.  Hugh 
pulled  the  ends  of  his  mustache. 

"All  over  now?"  he  echoed  diffidently.  "You  mean 
our — engagement?" 

Jem  started  as  if  she  had  been  stung. 

"It  wasn't  an  engagement!"  said  she  angrily.  "It  was 
only — only — oh!  it  was  only  the  most  pitiful  piece  of  folly 
I  have  ever  committed,  and  that's  saying  a  great  deal." 

And  she  bit  her  lips  to  keep  the  tears  back,  and  played 
nervously  with  the  tassel  of  her  sunshade.  Hugh  looked 
reflectively  at  the  flying  landscape. 

"  It  didn't  turn  out  very  well,  did  it?  But  you  did  it 
with  a  good  motive,  at  any  rate." 

"  A  good  motive !  That's  nothing !"  broke  out  Jem  im- 
patiently. "  Everybody  has  what  he  thinks  a  good  motive 
for  everything  he  does.  I  shall  never  forgive  myself.  But 
don't  talk  about  it — don't,  please." 

"  But  I  want  to  talk  about  it,"  persisted  Hugh  in  a  meek 
voice.  "At  least  I  want  to  say  just  this:  that  I  am  very 
sorry  that  you  should  retain  such  an  unhappy  memory  of 
what  has  been  to  me  the — the  pleasantest  day  of  my  life." 

Jem  looked  up  quickly,  and  then  stared  at  him  stupidly. 

"Oh,  of  course  you  are  bound  to  say  that!"  she  said  at 
last,  in  quite  a  vindictive  tone.  "  But  I  thought  better  of 
you  than  to  suppose  you  took  me  for  a  girl  you  had  to  say 
things  like  that  to!" 

"I'll  tell  you  what  sort  of  girl  I  do  take  you  for,"  said 
Hugh  in  a  different  tone,  as  he  suddenly  changed  his  seat 
for  the  one  beside  her. 

"  I  don't  want  to  know!"  said  Jem  fiercely. 
16 


242  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

For  was  he  not  already  presuming  upon  that  fictitious 
temporary  relationship  which  she  now  decreed  to  be  a  thing 
of  the  past? 

Whereupon  Hugh  changed  the  form  of  his  speech : 

"You  are  the  sort  of  girl,"  he  went  on  with  dogged  per- 
sistence, "to  make  a  great  fuss  about  a  little  thing!" 

Jem  turned  upon  him  in  her  wrath. 

"Little  thing!"  she  cried  tempestuously.  "Do  you  call 
my  having  to  let  you  kiss  me  a  little  thing?" 

This,  then,  was  the  thorn  which  had  been  rankling  all 
this  time.  Hugh  looked  at  her  with  a  mixture  of  amuse- 
ment and  admiration,  which  she  felt  to  be  a  fresh  insult. 
She  turned  her  head  sharply  away. 

"  It  was  a  very  modest  and — and  decorous  kiss,  though, 
wasn't  it?"  suggested  Hugh,  mildly. 

Jem,  now  that  her  pent-up  feelings  had  at  last  found 
vent,  was  in  no  mood  to  listen  to  his  protest. 

"  When  I  had  always  said  that — that — that  I  would  never 
be  kissed  by  any  but  the  man  I  was  going  to  marry!" 

At  this  there  fell  a  silence  upon  them  both,  and  Jem 
wiped  her  eyes,  blushing  more  deeply  than  ever  and  feeling 
that  she  had  said  something  foolish.  Hugh  broke  the  spell, 
speaking  in  a  judicial  tone  of  voice. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  he  said,  "that  it  would  be  a  pity  to 
break  a  vow  like  that.  You'd  never  feel  the  same  woman 
afterward,  if  you  did!" 

Jem  laughed  nervously. 

"Oh,  nonsense!"  cried  she. 

"  But  it's  not  nonsense,"  said  he,  pursuing  his  advantage. 
"The  breaking  of  a  vow  like  that  brings,  as  I  was  saying, 
a  loss  of  self-respect  which  a  sensitive  mind  like  yours  never 
gets  over.  Happily  there  is  a  way  by  which  this  loss  may 
be  avoided.  If  you  were  to  marry  me,  the  author  of  the 
injury  from  which  you  are  suffering " 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  BARGAIN.  243 

"Marry  yon!     Oh,  no,  no." 

She  took  the  proposal  with  a  mixture  of  consternation 
and  incredulity. 

"Why  not?  Don't  you  like  me?  I  thought  you  did  at 
first.  Don't  you  think  that  we  should  get  on  splendidly 
together?  And  wouldn't  it  be  nice  to  go  about  together, 
and  buy  gloves,  and  eat  tarts,  as  we  did  that  day,  that  jolly 
day?"  said  Hugh,  growing  persuasive,  fired  by  his  own  elo- 
quence, and  rising  to  quite  a  lofty  height  of  passion  under 
the  influence  of  his  own  words. 

But  Jem  shook  her  head. 

"No,  I  shouldn't  like  to  marry  you  at  all,"  she  said  de- 
cisively, "even  if  I  could  forget  Gerard,  which  I  can't." 
She  perceived  that  Hugh  moved  impatiently,  and  she 
looked  at  him  and  gravely  added :  "  I  dare  say  you  think  it 
very  silly  of  me  to  be  fond  of  a  man  who  isn't  fond  of  me." 

He  interrupted  her,  with  an  assumption  of  plaintive  de- 
spair: 

"  How  can  I  think  so,  when  I  am  fond  myself  of  a  girl 
who  isn't  fond  of  me?" 

Jem,  who  had  recovered  self-possession  as  soon  as  Hugh 
made  his  proposal,  smiled. 

"  Bat  you're  not  really  in  earnest,"  she  said.  "  You  only 
ask  me  to  marry  me  so  that  I  may  not  feel  so  uncomforta- 
ble over  my  own  stupidity." 

"  Do  you  really  think  I  don't  want  you  to  say  yes,  then?" 
asked  Hugh  hotly. 

The  answer  was  given  very  decidedly  indeed. 

"I  am  sure  of  it!" 

Hugh  sat  back,  thoughtful  and  rather  bewildered.  Her 
lack  of  vanity  was  a  charm,  but  it  was  perplexity.  Before 
he  had  yet  resolved  on  a  fresh  plan  of  approach  to  this  for- 
midable citadel  of  girlish  simplicity,  Jem  herself  heaved  a 
sigh  which  was  full  of  restored  contentment. 


244  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  I  am  glad  you  asked  me,  though — very  glad  and  very 
grateful,"  she  said,  meditatively.  "It  has  cleared  the 
ground,  as  it  were,  and  put  us  back  on  the  old  footing  again. 
It  would  have  been  awkward  for  you,  though,  if  I  had  said 
yes;  now,  wouldn't  it?" 

Hugh  looked  at  the  girl  uncertainly,  not  feeling  quite 
sure  whether  there  might  not  be  a  little  spice  of  coquetry 
in  her  apparently  astounding  simplicity.  But  there  was 
none.  Too  illy  brought  up  to  be  reticent  about  her  affection 
for  a  man  who  held  it  lightly,  it  seemed  to  her  that  that 
affection,  openly  acknowledged,  was  a  barrier  sufficient  be- 
tween her  and  any  other  man. 

As  soon  as  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  this  was  sim- 
plicity and  not  coquetry,  Hugh  allowed  himself  to  feel  mor- 
tified at  his  want  of  success. 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  he  shortly. 

And  he  leaned  back,  not  caring  to  hide  the  fact  that  he 
was  offended. 

For  some  time  there  was  silence  between  them,  each  con- 
sidering the  situation,  and  both  a  little  sorry  for  their  share 
in  bringing  it  about.  At  last,  at  the  same  moment,  an  im- 
pulse caused  each  to  cast  a  furtive  glance  at  the  face  of  the 
other.  And  in  a  moment  they  smiled  and  were  friends  again. 

"  You'll  forgive  me  for  everything,  for  the  sake  of  our 
being  such  old  pals,  if  I  may  use  such  an  expression,"  said 
Hugh,  in  his  most  persuasive  accents. 

Jem  put  out  her  hand  impulsively,  and  Hugh  seized  it. 

"  Oh,  yes,  and  I'm  so  glad.  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Thorn- 
dyke,  that  I've  never  had  any  friends — what  I  call  friends 
— until  I  met  Mrs.  Hilliard  and  you?  And  having  only 
two,  I  don't  want  to  lose  either  of  them." 

"Well,  you  shan't  lose  one  as  long  as  you  want  him," 
said  Hugh,  immensely  thankful  to  have  reached,  this  sure 
ground  again. 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  BARGAIN.  345 

And  they  both  felt  that  a  great  cloud  had  been  happily 
lifted  from  their  sky,  and  the  rest  of  the  journey  was  passed 
in  the  old  pleasant  manner  of  their  earlier  acquaintance. 

But  Hugh  did  not  dare  to  return  to  the  subject  of  their 
engagement,  and  when  he  left  her  at  the  gate  of  "  Maison- 
ette," declining  her  perfunctory  invitation  to  come  in,  the 
important  point  of  the  footing  upon  which  they  were  to 
stand  to  each  other  in  the  view  of  the  young  lady's  rela- 
tions was  left  undecided. 

"  There  will  be  complications,  and  she  will  soon  hate  the 
very  sound  of  my  name!"  thought  Hugh  uneasily,  as  he 
walked  back  quickly  to  Wimbledon  Station. 


CHAPTEE  XXXII. 

TWO  MEETINGS. 

BEFORE  Jem  reached  her  home  that  evening,  Netelka  and 
her  loving  husband  had  already  returned  to  "  The  Firs." 
The  man  who  opened  the  door,  the  same  who  had  given  the 
Hastings  address  to  Hugh  Thorndyke,  was  shocked  at  the 
change  in  Mrs.  Hilliard's  looks  during  the  short  time  she 
had  been  away.  Linley  perceived  a  change  in  the  man's 
face  as  he  opened  the  door,  and,  drawing  his  wife's  arm 
affectionately  through  his  own,  he  said  in  his  softest 
voice : 

"Ah,  Milner,  Mrs.  Hilliard  doesn't  look  much  the  bet- 
ter for  her  holiday,  does  she?  I  think  we  shall  find  that 
home  is  the  best  place,  after  all.  Now,  my  dear, "he  went 
on,  turning  to  Netelka,  and  leading  her  toward  the  stair- 
case, "  I  insist  upon  your  going  straight  upstairs  to  your 
room  at  once.  I  will  send  you  something  to  eat.  You  are 
really  too  tired  to  make  an  appearance  at  the  dinner-table. 

"Oh,  no,  indeed  I'm  not,"  protested  Netelka  quickly. 
"I  want  to  see  the  house  again — all  of  it.  I  don't  want  to 
be  shut  up  alone  upstairs." 

She  spoke,  not  in  the  old  ringing  voice,  but  in  plaintive 
tones  of  entreaty,  which  betrayed  the  state  of  subjection  to 
which  she  had  been  reduced.  As  Linley  paid  no  heed  to 
her  remonstrances,  she  allowed  herself  to  be  led  upstairs  to 
her  room. 

"Don't  let  your  mistress  leave  the  room,"  said  Linley  to 
the  maid,  as  he  gave  his  wife  into  her  charge,  as  if  she  had 
been  a  prisoner  handed  over  from  one  warden  to  another. 


TWO  MEETINGS.  247 

"  She  is  very  far  from  well  still,  and  must  not  overexert 
herself.  Mind,  I  depend  upon  you." 

Ths  servant  thus  addressed  was  a  dry,  elderly  woman, 
who  was  housekeeper  in  Netelka's  absence,  but  who  com- 
bined her  duties  in  that  capacity  with  those  of  a  lady's-maid 
when  her  mistress  was  at  home.  She  adored  Linley,  who, 
having  conceived  the  idea  that  she  might  one  day  be  useful 
to  him,  had  always  treated  her  to  his  gentle  manners,  and 
not  to  the  curt  tones  he  usually  kept  for  servants. 

Linley  had  a  disagreeable  meeting  in  store  for  him,  and 
he  wanted  to  get  his  wife  out  of  the  way  before  it  took  place. 
Harrington  Moseley's  telegram  of  the  day  before  had  been 
couched  in  terms  which  Linley  felt  even  telegraphic  brevity 
did  not  justify.  He  should  have  to  give  his  partner  "a 
piece  of  his  mind,"  and  he  was  rather  dreading  the  piece  of 
Harrington  Moseley's  mind  which  he  had  to  expect  to  got  in 
return.  Poor  Linley  was  suffering  from  an  acute  sense  of 
personal  injury.  All  his  nicely  laid  little  plans  for  securing  a 
nice  little  competence  for  himself,  free  from  the  galling 
chain  of  partnership  with  the  Jew,  had  failed,  one  by  one: 
all,  too,  through  the  agency  of  a  heavy-looking  brute  whom 
he  would  have  lived  to  despise — Hugh  Thorndyke.  Linley 
had  no  conscience ;  but  in  its  place  he  had  an  extra  degree  of 
sensitiveness  on  his  own  account,  of  tender  respect  for  his 
own  comfort  and  even  for  his  own  dignity.  All  these 
things  and  more  had  been  jeopardized  by  the  big  York- 
shireman,  and  Linley  loathed  him  to  such  an  extent  that 
he  would  have  cheerfully  foregone  a  part  of  the  fortune  he 
promised  himself  in  order  to  be  revenged  on  that  gentle- 
man for  his  interference  with  his  carefully  laid  plans. 

"Hallo,  Hilliard,  is  that  you?" 

These  words,  uttered  in  a  by  no  means  cordial  tone,  broke 
in  upon  Linley's  reverie.  Looking  up,  he  perceived  the 
face  of  the  Jew,  and  he  made  a  mental  note  of  the  fact  that 


248  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

the  Israelitish  type  increases  in  coarseness  with  advancing 
years.  Harrington  was  decidedly  more  repulsive  in  ap- 
pearance than  on  their  first  meeting.  He  shuddered 
slightly  as  he  answered  with  a  drawl : 

"  Yes,  it  is  I.     Surely  you  can  see  that  for  yourself!" 

"  Did  you  get  my  wire?     Yesterday,  I  mean?" 

"Of  course  I  did,  or  I  shouldn't  be  here." 

"Well,  come  in  here  a  minute." 

The  Jew  invited  his  partner  in  ill-doing  into  his  own 
apartment  and  turned  the  key  in  the  lock  of  the  outer  one. 

"You've  gone  and  made  a  nice  mess  of  everything, 
haven't  you?'1  said  Harrington,  putting  his  face  right  into 
that  of  the  shuddering  and  sensitive  Linley.  "I  always 
told  you  your  nasty,  sneaking  insurance  arrangements  would 
come  to  no  good.  Why,  that  Thorndyke  found  you  out  at 
once :  he  was  sniffing  about  the  medicine-bottles  the  other 
day,  and  as  good  as  saying  you  had  poisoned  young  Waller !" 

"Well,"  retorted  Linley  quietly,  turning  his  face  away 
with  a  gesture  of  disgust,  "what  does  that  matter?  I 
hadn't." 

Moseley  looked  at  him  doubtfully,  and  Linley  made 
another  gesture,  expressing  weariness. 

"His  illness  was  pneumonia,  as  the  doctor  said." 

"  But  it  was  brought  on  by  your  taking  him  out  driving 
on  a  wet  day  and  keeping  him  sitting  for  hours  in  his  wet 
clothes,"  said  Moseley. 

"  Well,  I  had  to  do  the  same." 

The  Jew  winked  significantly. 

"  You're  as  strong  as  a  horse,"  he  said  shortly.  "  Besides 
you  took  care  to  wear  a  waterproof. " 

Linley  made  an  impatient  movement. 

"I  should  have  been  spared  all  this,"  he  said  wearily,  "if 
Waller's  constitution  hadn't  been  better  than  we'd  reckoned 
for.  Pray,  who  would  have  benefited  the  most,  if  things 


TWO  MEETINGS.  249 

had  turned  out  differently?  The  policy  was  yours,  and  I 
should  only  have  got  the  crumbs." 

"Then  there's  another  thing,"  pursued  the  Jew,  chang- 
ing the  subject  hastily,  "  your  wife  looks  very  ill,  much 
worse  than  when  she  went  away.  I  hope  you  haven't  been 
up  to  any  of  your  tricks  in  that  quarter?" 

At  this  Linley  looked  up  with  a  frown. 

"  You  mind  your  own  business,  and  leave  me  to  manage 
mine.  My  wife's  all  right,  only  pining  for  the  society  of 
her  dear  Gerard." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Jew,  with  a  sidelong  glance,  "  take  care 
of  her  whatever  her  fancies  may  be.  For  as  long  as  people 
think  she's  the  ruling  spirit  here,  they  put  up  with  irregu- 
larities they  wouldn't  stand  from  you  or  me.  You  know 
we've  felt  the  difference  since  she  has  been  away.  That 
young  cub,  St.  Peters,  has  turned  quite  nasty.  He  says 
that  since  she's  making  such  a  good  thing  out  of  him  by 
lending  him  money  at  extravagant  rates  of  interest  (that's 
what  he  calls  a  mere  modest  sixty  per  cent !)  he  expects  to 
have  a  little  more  of  her  society." 

Linley  frowned  thoughtfully,  but  presently  replied  in  a 
testy  tone : 

"Well,  she's  back  again  now,  so  he  can  be  satisfied. 
When  is  he  coming  next?" 

"  I  expect  him  to-night. " 

"  All  right.  We'll  let  him  see  her,  then.  I'll  tell  her  to 
get  ready." 

Linley  was  glad  of  an  excuse  for  leaving  Harrington,  who 
on  his  side  was  not  sorry  to  get  rid  of  him.  When  Linley 
reached  his  wife's  room,  however,  the  housekeeper  met  him 
with  a  scandalized  face. 

"She's  gone,  sir;  I  couldn't  keep  her.  She's  in  the 
drawing-room — with  Mr.  Waller,  sir." 

Linley  nodded,  with  tightly  drawn  lips  and  veiled,  fur- 


250  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

tive  eyes.  He  went  down  the  stairs  very  softly,  entered  the 
drawing-room  like  a  cat,  and  finding  by  the  passionate 
voices  he  heard  from  the  end  of  the  long  room  that  the 
woman's  information  was  correct,  he  secreted  himself  on 
one  side  of  the  arch  which  stood  where  there  had  once  been 
folding-doors,  and  proceeded  to  indulge  himself  in  the  lux- 
ury of  listening  to  an  interesting  conversation  not  intended 
for  his  ears. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

TEMPTATION. 

NETELKA  had  been  of  late  so  meek,  so  cowed  by  her  hus- 
band, that  he  had  not  taken  into  account  the  possibility  of 
rebellion  on  her  part.  The  fact  was  that  the  appearance 
of  Hugh  Thorndyke,  the  friend  of  her  girlhood,  and  the 
scene  which  had  followed  had  emphasized  for  her  the  enor- 
mous difference  between  Netelka  the  maiden  and  Netelka 
the  wife. 

She  had  brooded  over  this  when  her  husband,  afraid  of 
the  open  revolt  to  his  authority  which  Hugh's  interference 
had  brought  about,  had  banished  her  to  Hastings  so  sud- 
denly, on  the  pretext  of  her  hysterical  state  betraying  a 
need  of  change. 

Left  to  herself,  she  had  become,  just  as  the  artful  Lin- 
ley  had  expected,  lonely,  helpless,  and  easy  to  manage. 
When  he  went  down  to  see  her,  he  was  very  gentle,  very 
kind,  and  he  succeeded  in  regaining  much  of  his  empire 
over  her  mind,  and  in  persuading  her  that  every  suspicion 
concerning  him  which  had  been  instilled  into  her  mind 
was  baseless  or  exaggerated. 

The  visit  of  Hugh  and  Jem,  however,  had  suddenly  woke 
her  from  her  repose  of  mind.  When,  therefore,  Linley 
had  proposed  their  instant  return  to  "The  Firs,"  to 
refute,  as  he  said,  the  vile  slanders  which  Hugh  Thorn- 
dyke  was  spreading,  she  had  agreed  with  feverish  haste  to 
his  proposal,  and  had  passed  a  miserable  afternoon,  hearing 
all  her  old  suspicions  of  her  husband  rung  in  her  ears,  first 
to  the  sound  of  the  sea  and  then  to  the  whirr  of  the  train. 


252  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Linley,  for  his  part,  was  so  much  disturbed  by  Hugh 
Thorndyke's  discovery  of  his  curious  domestic  arrange- 
ments that  he  did  not  pay  sufficient  heed  to  the  significant 
silence  and  abstraction  of  his  wife.  He  flattered  himself 
that  he  should  find  her  as  easy  to  manage  at  Wimbledon  as 
she  had  been  at  Hastings,  and  that  he  had  got  too  sure  a 
hold  upon  her  for  Hugh's  accusations  to  have  much  weight. 

But  he  underrated  his  wife's  intelligence,  and  took  her 
wilful  blindness  for  stupidity. 

As  soon  as  she  was  left  alone  with  the  maid,  Netelka,  in- 
stead of  lying  down  as  her  husband  had  directed,  changed 
her  travelling  dress  for  a  tea-gown,  had  her  hair  done,  and 
walked  across  the  room  to  the  door.  The  maid  protested, 
urged  Mr.  Hilliard's  wishes;  but  Netelka,  from  being  the 
passive  creature  who  could  not  resist  her  husband's  will, 
had  become  the  mistress  whose  will  no  servant  could  with- 
stand. 

"  You  can  tell  Mr.  Hilliard,  if  he  asks  for  me,  that  I 
have  gone  down  to  the  drawing-room,"  she  said  carelessly. 

She  walked  downstairs  in  a  strange  frame  of  mind,  feel- 
ing the  walls  and  the  banisters,  as  if  asking  herself 
whether  they  were  real,  or  whether  the  gleaming  lines  of 
sunlight  which  interlaced  each  other  on  the  floor  and  the 
walls  of  the  hall,  and  the  scent  of  the  flowers  as  the  after- 
noon breeze  bore  it  in  from  the  conversatory,  and  the  faintly 
heard  notes  of  the  piano  as  a  hand  ran  lightly  over  them, 
were  not  part  of  a  dream  in  which  she  walked  as  a  disem- 
bodied spirit  might  walk,  floating  on  the  air  rather  than 
treading  on  the  ground. 

Unsteadily  her  hand  felt  for  the  handle  of  the  drawing- 
room  door.  She  remembered  that  a  week  ago  she  had  lain, 
as  she  thought,  dying,  and  had  remembered  such  an  after- 
noon as  this  at  "  The  Firs,"  and  had  wondered  whether  her 
spirit  would  come  back  to  the  place  when  she  was  dead. 


TEMPTATION.  253 

And  so  it  happened  that  when  she  stood  in  the  drawing- 
room,  in  her  loose  gown  of  cream-colored  chiffon,  with 
pearls  in  the  lace  at  her  throat,  and  a  starlike  diamond 
shining  in  the  fading  sunlight  on  one  of  her  fingers,  Ger- 
ard, although  he  had  known  that  she  was  in  the  house, 
started  up  and  stood  before  her  without  speaking,  perceiv- 
ing that  there  had  been  in  her  some  great  change. 

"Gerard!"  said  she  in  a  low  voice,  doubtfully;  "Ger- 
ard!" 

Then  she  smiled;  but  it  was  a  weird  smile,  in  which 
there  was  something  which  frightened  him.  He  put  his 
hands  out  hastily  to  touch  hers,  as  if  he  must  assure  him- 
self without  delay  that  she  was  really  breathing  and  alive. 

"  Thank  God,  thank  God !"  whispered  he,  in  a  breaking 
voice,  "  that  I  can  see  you  again.  I  thought — I  thought, 
oh!" — a  shiver  passed  over  him,  and  Netelka  perceived  by 
the  touch  of  his  hands  that  he  was  deadly  cold — "  I  don't 
want  to  remember  it.  Come,  come  to  the  light,  my — my 
darling!" 

For  a  moment  Netelka  took  no  more  notice  of  this  last 
word  than  if  it  had  been  a  term  of  endearment  which  she 
had  heard  constantly  from  his  lips.  And  yet  the  only 
term  of  endearment  which  he  had  ever  addressed  to  her  be- 
fore had  been  the  half -playful  "  my  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard"  of 
every-day  life.  She  let  him  lead  her  to  one  of  the  open 
French  windows,  where  a  clematis-bush  was  just  bursting 
from  bud  into  flower,  and  a  clump  of  damask  rose-trees 
filled  the  air  with  delicate  fragrance.  He  was  still  holding 
her  hand  and  looking  into  her  face  with  a  wistful  eager- 
ness which  betrayed  that  he  too  had  passed  through  some 
strange  experiences  since  their  eyes  had  last  met. 

In  her  turn  Netelka  shivered,  and  a  heart-broken  sigh 
came  from  her  lips. 

"What  are  you  saying?    You  mustn't  talk  like  that," 


254  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

she  said  suddenly,  withdrawing  her  hand,  but  without  a 
blush.  There  was  no  resentment,  no  prudery  in  her  tone; 
she  uttered  the  words  mechanically,  as  if  repeating  a  les- 
son. Gerard  leaned  against  the  window-frame.  As  he 
looked  away  from  her,  startled  by  the  swinging  of  a  bough 
under  the  flight  of  a  bird,  Netelka  caught  a  new  view  of  his 
face,  and  as  she  did  so,  she  let  a  cry  escape  her  lips. 

"What  is  it?  You  are  ill;  sit  down;  hold  my  arm; 
let  me  hold  you — so." 

As  he  spoke,  Gerard  had  sprung  forward,  and,  support- 
ing her  gently,  made  her  sit  on  one  of  the  low-cushioned 
seats  which  were  fitted  into  the  recesses  of  the  window. 

"I — am  not  ill,"  she  answered  in  a  hoarse  voice.  "At 
least,  I  am  not  so  ill  as  I  have  been,  and — as  you  have  been. 
Tell  me,  what  has  been  the  matter  with  you?  Is  it  true, 
as  Hugh  Thorndyke  says,  that — that  Linley  tried  to  poison 
you?" 

Gerard  stared  at  her  in  astonishment,  which  quickly  gave 
place  to  doubt. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  think  so,"  answered  he  quietly. 
"I  went  out  with  him  and  got  caught  in  the  rain." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  she  in  a  tone  full  of  fear.  She  knew 
that  Gerard's  delicacy  was  well  known  to  her  husband,  and 
with  her  mind  attuned  to  suspicion,  she  guessed  the  truth, 
although  she  would  scarcely  own  it  even  to  herself. 

Gerard  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  her  face,  which  he  read 
as  easily  as  if  it  had  been  an  open  book.  The  history  of 
the  past  few  weeks  during  which  she  had  been  away  he 
seemed  to  read  in  her  mournful  eyes,  in  the  deeper  lines 
about  her  mouth.  She  turned  suddenly  toward  him,  and 
their  eyes  met. 

"  You  must  go  away  from  here — at  once, "  she  said.  "  You 
are  not  safe  here. " 

"And— you?" 


TEMPTATION.  255 

As  he  spoke,  he  dropped  into  the  seat  beside  her  and 
leaned  back  against  the  wall,  so  that  his  own  face  might  be 
out  of  her  range  of  vision,  for  he  could  not  trust  his  quiv- 
ering muscles  not  to  betray  the  agitation  from  which  he 
was  suffering. 

Netelka  started,  changed  her  position,  moving  a  little 
away  from  him  as  if  in  carelessness,  though  she  also  betrayed 
more  than  she  wished. 

"  Oh,  that  is  different.  I — I  am  his  wife;  he  has  got  to 
take  care  of  me;  he " 

She  broke  down,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  hands, 
burst  into  tears  and  sobs  so  violent,  so  unrestrained  that 
Gerard,  who  had  never  seen  her  give  way  like  this  before, 
was  alarmed  beyond  measure.  But  he  did  not  make  any 
great  attempt  to  soothe  her ;  he  did  not  touch  the  quiv- 
ering hand  which  lay  within  his  reach:  he  dared  not. 
After  listening  for  a  few  moments  to  her  heartbroken  sobs, 
he  sprang  up  and  walked  rapidly  up  the  room.  To  Netelka, 
miserable,  despairing,  it  seemed  as  if  her  best  friend  were 
deserting  her.  He  heard  her  pause  in  the  midst  of  her 
sobs,  and  turning,  he  saw  her  poor  tear-stained  face  wearing 
an  expression  of  desolation  which  touched  him  to  the  quick. 

"Oh,  are  you  going  now — like  that?  Gerard,  Gerard! 
Don't  leave  me  here.  He  will  kill  me  if  you  do.  Take 
me — take  me  with  you,  Gerard!" 

Then  her  head  sank  down,  and  she  threw  herself  among 
the  cushions  in  an  agony  of  shame  and  grief. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Netelka,  who  sobbed  on  with- 
out looking  up,  thought  that  Gerard  had  left  her  alone.  It 
was  not  until  she  had  wept  herself  into  a  state  of  exhaustion 
that  she  raised  herself  and  perceived  that  Gerard  was  sit- 
ting at  a  table  at  a  little  distance,  with  his  head  buried  in 
his  hands.  He  did  not  move,  and  for  a  few  minutes  Ne- 
telka sat  staring  at  his  bent  head  with  eyes  so  dim  and  swol- 


256  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

len  after  her  tears  that  she  seemed  to  see  two  or  three  curly 
heads  dancing  before  them. 

"  Gerard !"  she  cried  at  last  in  a  low  voice,  very  diffi- 
dently. 

Gerard  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  her,  but  did  not 
rise  from  his  chair. 

"  Did  you — did  you  hear  what  I  said — just  now?" 

Then  he  got  up  and  walked  to  the  window  without  looking 
at  her,  exactly  as  if  nothing  out  of  the  common  had  hap- 
pened. 

!Netelka  watched  him,  in  bewilderment. 

"   Did  you  hear  what  I  said,  Gerard?" 

But  he  pulled  the  blind  down  a  little  way  and  then 
pulled  it  up  again,  as  if  very  anxious  to  get  it  perfectly 
straight.  Meantime  he  answered  very  deliberately : 

"  No,  Mrs.  Hilliard,  I  didn't  hear  you  say  anything.  And 
I  don't  want  you  to  say  anything  until  you're  quite  your- 
self again.  Talking  isn't  any  better  for  you  than  crying; 
and  as  I  care  for  you  more  than  for  any  one  else  in  the  world, 
I  mustn't  let  you  talk  and  I  mustn't  let  you  cry.  So  please, 
Mrs.  Hilliard,  ma'am,  don't  do  either,  but  listen  to  me." 

But  Netelka  started  up,  stung  to  the  quick.  She  ran 
the  length  of  the  room  so  quickly  that  Gerard  could  not 
stop  her ;  and  he  had  not  got  farther  in  his  rapid  pursuit 
of  her  than  the  middle  of  the  room  when  he  suddenly  saw 
her  stagger  back  from  the  door,  with  a  loud  cry. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

GOOD-BY. 

IT  was  the  sight  of  her  husband,  well  hidden,  as  he  sup- 
posed, in  his  corner  between  the  archway  and  the  door, 
which  had  caused  Netelka  to  scream  and  fall  back.  Linley 
was  extremely  disgusted  at  this  misadventure,  following  so 
quickly  on  his  discovery  of  what  he  would  have  called  Ne- 
telka's  perfidy  toward  himself.  However,  it  was  clearly 
necessary  to  make  some  excuse  for  his  presence. 

"I  was  just  coming  in,"  he  said  in  a  suave  tone,  which 
hardly  concealed  his  annoyance.  "  Did  I  frighten  you?" 

Netelka  did  not  deign  to  answer  him.  The  attitude  in 
which  she  had  caught  him,  the  expression  on  his  face,  had 
shown  her  quite  unmistakably  that  he  had  been  eavesdrop- 
ping, and  her  disgust  at  his  meanness  quite  swallowed  up 
her  shame  for  the  words  he  had  heard  her  utter.  Nothing 
that  she  had  known,  nothing  she  had  suspected,  of  her  hus- 
band's conduct  had  ever  caused  her  so  much  repugnance  as 
this  unmanly  action.  She  would  have  passed  him  without 
a  word  and  left  the  room,  if  Linley,  who  was  not  easily 
abashed,  had  not  laid  his  detaining  hand  on  her  arm. 

"  Don't  go  away.  I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  said  Linley, 
who  was  by  no  means  anxious  to  be  left  alone  with  Gerard. 

"I  am  tired.  I  am  going  to  my  room,"  said  Netelka 
coldly. 

"  You  are  not  too  tired  to  sit  up  for  your  own  amuse- 
ment; well,  then,  you  may  sit  up  for  mine,"  said  he  in  a 
snarling  tone.     "  Lord  St.  Peters  has  just  come :   I  heard 
his  voice  in  the  hall.    He  says  he  never  sees  anything  of  you, 
17 


258  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

and  it's  quite  true.  You  make  yourself  invisible  to  my 
friends,  and  keep  your  society  for  a  few  privileged  per- 
sons." 

And  he  threw  a  vicious  glance  at  Gerard,  who  had  dis- 
creetly retired  to  the  window  at  the  farthest  end  of  the 
room,  but  who  was  not  out  of  hearing. 

Netelka  hesitated  for  a  moment  only;  then,  as  the  voices 
of  Arthur  Sainsbury  and  Lord  St.  Peters  became  audible 
as  they  approached  the  door  of  the  room,  she  submitted 
from  force  of  habit,  and  retreated  to  the  nearest  looking- 
glass  to  see  what  ravages  her  recent  tears  made  in  her  ap- 
pearance. They  were  even  greater  than  she  had  supposed. 
She  was  still  standing  before  the  glass  when  the  two  young 
men  entered. 

Lord  St.  Peters  was  a  thick-set,  common-looking  man  of 
six  or  seven  and  twenty,  who  had  evidently  had  more  cham- 
pagne than  was  good  for  him.  He  was  the  only  son  of  a 
large  upholsterer,  who  had  received  first  a  baronetcy  and 
then  a  peerage  for  "  services  to  his  party. "  Lord  St.  Peters 
had  the  manners  of  the  new  rather  than  the  old  nobility, 
and  he  swaggered  into  the  room  in  a  manner  which  made 
Gerard  long  to  kick  him. 

"Hallo!  Is  it  you,  Mrs.  Hilliard?  It's  ages  since  we've 
had  a  glimpse  of  you !"  cried  he,  as  he  sauntered  up  to  Ne- 
telka  with  an  air  of  easy  assurance  which  he  thought  irre- 
sistible. 

She  had  never  liked  him,  and  had  in  fact  been  barely 
civil  to  him  at  any  time.  She  now  passed  him  over  for 
Arthur  Sainsbury,  whose  tempestuous  but  more  boyish  man- 
ners were  much  less  offensive  to  her  than  those  of  his  com- 
panion. She  was  sorry  to  see,  however,  that  the  rackety 
life  he  was  leading  was  telling  upon  the  lad,  who  had  al- 
ways been  credited  with  more  money  than  brains,  and  who, 
under  the  guidance  of  the  Jew  and  Linley,  was  rapidly 


GOOD-BY.  259 

reducing  the  amount  of  his  fortune  without  acquiring  any 
compensating  gain  in  the  matter  of  intellect. 

"Arthur,"  she  said  gravely,  "I  shall  have  to  give  you  a 
lecture,  I  see.  I  don't  see  any  signs  of  the  reformation  you 
promised  me." 

"  Oh,  it's  coming;  in  fact,  it's  begun,"  cried  he  with  one 
of  his  uproarious  laughs.  "  I  don't  flourish  the  signs  of  it 
about  yet,  nor  wear  a  blue  ribbon  in  my  button-hole ;  but 
for  all  that,  I'm  a  reformed  character,  I  assure  you." 

Lord  St.  Peters,  very  angry  at  the  much  warmer  recep- 
tion Netelka  had  given  to  Arthur  Sainsbury  than  to  him, 
laughed  disagreeably. 

"  Keformed,  eh?"  he  exclaimed  in  a  sneering  tone.  "  Ee- 
formed,  do  you  say?  Oh,  yes,  this  is  the  very  house  where 
you  would  be  encouraged  to  do  that,  Sainsbury !  And  Mrs. 
Hilliard  would  be  the  very  person  to  bring  it  about, 
wouldn't  you,  Mrs.  Hilliard?" 

At  this  point  Linley  hurried  forward  to  the  young  man's 
side,  and,  passing  his  arm  through  that  of  Lord  St.  Peters, 
tried  to  persuade  him  to  go  upstairs  and  try  his  luck  at 
baccarat.  But  the  young  man  was  obstinate,  and  he  shook 
off  the  hand  of  his  persuasive  host. 

"  No,  no !  It'll  be  your  turn  by  and  by — yours  and  that 
of  that  infernal  little  Hebrew  you  keep  stowed  away  in  the 
attic.  I  came  down  to-night  determined  to  pay  my  re- 
spects to  Mrs.  Hilliard,  if  I  were  so  fortunate  as  to  find  her 
at  home.  Well,  now  I  have  found  her  at  home,  and  I'm 
not  going  to  deliver  myself  into  your  clutches  till  she's  had 
her  turn.  I  mean  to  see  if  I  can't  cut  out  our  sulky  friend 
in  the  corner  there."  He  glanced  at  Gerard,  who,  stand- 
ing some  distance  away  from  the  rest,  certainly  looked  far 
from  amiable.  "I  know  he's  a  prime  favorite;  but,  dash 
it  all,  surely  that's  all  the  more  reason  why  anether  fellow 
should  have  his  turn!" 


260  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Linley,  who  had  seized  a  man-servant  and  dispatched  him 
with  a  message  to  Harrington  Moseley  telling  him  to  come 
down  at  once,  was  growing  more  and  more  uneasy  at  the 
bold  tone  of  Lord  St.  Peters'  conversation.  The  young  man 
was  behaving,  not  with  the  deference  usually  shown  to  Ne- 
telka,  but  with  the  free  and  easy  airs  of  the  gambling-room 
upstairs.  He  thought  that  Moseley,  by  joining  his  persua- 
sions with  Linley's  own,  might  be  able  to  remove  the  young 
man  to  regions  where  he  would  be  less  actively  offensive. 

It  was  evident  that  Gerard  already  found  a  difficulty  in 
restraining  his  longing  to  lay  violent  hands  upon  Lord  St. 
Peters.  While  Netelka  herself  seemed  to  be  conscious  that 
there  was  some  reason  that  she  did  not  know  of  for  the 
unusually  offensive  behavior  of  the  visitor,  she  looked  sus- 
piciously at  her  husband,  and  then,  turning  away  from  Lord 
St.  Peters,  walked  toward  the  door. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  you're  not  going  to  escape  so  easily.  Hil- 
liard,  please  use  your  authority,  and  tell  your  wife  to  drop 
these  airs.  They  don't  become  her  half  so  well  as  the  old 
ones." 

As  he  spoke  he  made  a  rush  toward  the  door  and  put 
his  back  against  it,  to  prevent  her  exit.  In  a  moment  Ger- 
ard was  beside  him,  laughing  rather  nervously,  and  push- 
ing Lord  St.  Peters  with  a  touch  which  had  in  it  more  of 
anger  than  of  the  playfulness  he  professed  to  assume. 

"  Look  here,  old  chap,  we  are  not  on  Hampstead  Heath, 
and  this  isn't  a  bank  holiday.  You  can't  dictate  to  a 
lady  whether  she  shall  or  shall  not  leave  her  own  drawing- 
room,  can  you?" 

Perhaps  Lord  St.  Peters  was  sober  enough  to  detect  a 
note  he  did  not  like  under  Gerard's  friendliness.  He  pulled 
his  arm  roughly  away  and  planted  himself  still  more  firmly 
before  the  door. 

"  Don't  old  chap  me,  Mr.  Thingamy;  it's  a  liberty  I  don't 


aOOD-BT.  261 

allow  except  to  my  particular  friends.  Now,  you  may  be 
Mrs.  Hilliard's  particular  friend,  but  not  mine.  So  go 
away  and  leave 'me  alone." 

Gerard's  eyes  blazed,  and,  clinching  his  hands,  he  glanced 
first  at  Netelka,  who  had  retreated  from  the  door  during 
this  colloquy,  and  then  at  Linley,  who  was  trying  to  look  as 
if  he  had  not  heard  what  had  passed. 

"  I  will  go  away,  certainly,  rather  than  take  part  in  a  row 
in  the  presence  of  a  lady,"  said  Gerard  in  a  very  low  voice, 
anxious  above  all  things  not  to  irritate  the  young  fool  into 
any  further  insulting  remarks. 

Unluckily,  his  very  forbearance  excited  Lord  St.  Peters, 
who  was  in  no  mood  or  condition  to  be  careful  of  his 
words. 

"  Do  you  think  I'm  going  to  take  lessons  in  deportment 
from  you?"  asked  he,  insolently.  "  If  Hilliard  is  satisfied 
with  my  being  here,  it  seems  to  me  you  ought  to  be.  You 
don't  find  anything  to  complain  of  in  me,  do  you,  Hilliard? 
Nor  you,  eh?"  added  he,  to  Harrington  Moseley,  who  had 
been  waiting  outside  the  door,  and  who  had  seized  this  his 
first  opportunity  of  edging  himself  into  the  room  behind 
Lord  Peters'  back. 

"  Of  course  not.  There's  nobody  we're  more  glad  to  wel- 
come, Lord  St.  Peters,"  said  the  Jew,  casting  a  nervous 
glance  around,  to  take  in  the  bearings  of  the  situation. 
"  Now,  aren't  you  coming  upstairs  to  my  den  for  a  smoke? 
I'm  sure  Mrs.  Hilliard  will  excuse  you." 

Here  Arthur  Sainsbury  struck  in,  not  with  the  best  re- 
sults. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I'll  be  bound  she  will.  Mrs.  Hilliard  will  be 
only  too  glad  to  get  rid  of  us  after  the  bother  there  has 
been,"  said  he  in  his  strident  tones. 

Netelka  had  availed  herself  of  the  diversion  caused  by 
Harrington  Moseley 's  entrance  to  make  her  way  to  the  open 


262  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

window.  Arthur  Sainsbury's  remark  recalled  the  atten- 
tion of  Lord  St.  Peters  to  her  movements.  With  a  coarse, 
ironical  laugh,  he  said : 

"  I  dare  say  Mrs.  Hilliard  wouldn't  mind  our  smoking 
down  here,  for  that  matter.  One  doesn't  expect  the  pro- 
prietress of  a  gaming-house  to  be  so  jolly  particular  as  all 
that." 

The  speech  came  like  a  thunderclap  to  everybody.  Curi- 
ously enough,  although  Netelka  stopped,  petrified  with  sur- 
prise, though  Gerard  was  dumb  with  indignation,  it  was 
upon  Linley  and  his  confederate,  the  Jew,  that  the  words 
produced  the  strongest  impressoin.  The  Jew  turned  pur- 
ple, while  Linley  grew  livid  and  trembled.  They  did  not 
seem  surprised :  they  seemed  thunderstruck,  appalled;  and 
their  eyes  stole  in  the  direction  of  the  lady  while  they  si- 
multaneously rushed  at  Lord  St.  Peters  and  tried  to  elbow 
him  out  of  the  room.  But  he  stood  his  ground,  conscious 
that  he  was  being  scurvily  treated. 

"No,  I  won't  be  shoved  out  of  the  room,"  he  protested 
loudly;  "at  least  I'll  say  my  say  first.  I'm  sure  I  don't 
want  to  say  anything  offensive  to  Mrs.  Hilliard.  This  is 
an  awfully  jolly  house,  and  of  course  one  expects  to  have  to 
pay  for  one's  enjoyment.  But  it's  really  rather  funny  that 
we  should  all  have  to  keep  up  the  farce  of  pretending  she 
doesn't  know  what  goes  on  upstairs,  when  everybody  knows 
it's  her  money  runs  the  show,  and  when  I've  had  to  pay  her 
at  the  rate  of  sixty  per  cent  for  the  little  sums  she's  obliged 
me  with." 

Netelka  was  listening  without  a  movement.  Her  eyes 
shone  in  her  pale  face  with  a  burning  light  as  she  looked 
steadily  at  her  husband.  Then  her  face  changed  and 
quivered  all  over,  for  as  soon  as  the  words  were  out  of  Lord 
St.  Peters'  mouth,  Gerard  sprang  at  him  and  struck  him 
in  the  face. 


OOOD-BY.  263 

"That's  a  lie!" 

"It's  not  a  lie!" 

Lord  St.  Peters,  enraged  at  the  blow,  which  he  failed 
either  to  parry  or  to  return,  shook  his  fist,  and  with  the 
other  hand  fumbled  for  his  pocket-book. 

"I'll — I'll  show  you  whether  I'm  a  liar  or  not,"  stam- 
mered he,  trembling  with  anger.  "  Look — look  here ;  I'll 
show  you  her  receipt,  the  only  one  I've  been  able  to  get 
yet;  I've  got  it,  I've  got  it!  Hands  off!"  he  went  on  in  a 
rougher  tone,  as  Linley  and  Harrington  Moseley  tried  their 
best  to  silence  him.  "  I  suppose  the  lady  won't  deny  her 
own  handwriting?"  And  he  turned  to  Netelka,  who  had 
drawn  nearer  to  the  disputants. 

"  I  shall  not,  certainly — if  it  is  my  own  writing,"  she  an- 
swered very  calmly. 

Gerard  laughed  contemptuously. 

"You  have  been  sold,"  said  he  shortly,  in  Lord  St.  Pe- 
ters' ear. 

"  Have  I?  Well,  we'll  see."  Drawing  from  his  pocket- 
book  a  small  paper,  he  unfolded  it,  and  keeping  a  tight 
hold  upon  it,  offered  it  for  the  lady's  inspection.  "  Is  that 
your  signature,  madam,  or  is  it  not?" 

Netelka  glanced  at  the  written  words,  and  then  at  her 
husband's  masklike  face. 

"  It  is  very  like  it,"  she  said,  briefly. 

Lord  St.  Peters  took  this  for  a  triumph. 

"Like  yours!  Of  course  it  is!"  chuckled  he.  "And 
now,  if  I've  quite  satisfied  this  gentleman,"  and  he  turned 
with  an  ironical  bow  to  Gerard,  "  I  think  I'll  go  upstairs 
and  have  that  cigar." 

He  stalked  out  of  the  room  with  another  bow,  this  time 
to  Netelka ;  and  Harrington  Moseley  and  Linley  followed 
him  without  delay.  Arthur  Sainsbury  just  stayed  behind  to 
shake  Netelka  by  the  hand  and  tell  her  it  was  a  beastly 


264  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

shame,  that  it  was;  and  he  shouldn't  have  thought  Linley 
would  have  dragged  her  into  such  things.  And  then  he 
went  after  the  others,  leaving  her  standing  by  the  piano 
with  a  curious,  fixed  smile  upon  her  face. 

"  Why — why  didn't  you  tell  him  it  was  a  forgery?  That 
you  had  no  money  of  your  own?  Why  did  you  let  that  ass 
go  away  thinking  that  you — you " 

Gerard  had  hissed  out  these  words  hoarsely,  leaning  upon 
the  piano,  with  his  great  blue  eyes  fixed  on  her  face.  She 
shrugged  her  shoulders  almost  listlessly: 

"What  was  the  use?  He  would  not  have  believed  me! 
And  why  should  I  exasperate  Linley  still  further,  when  he 
can  make  me  suffer  for  every  word,  every  movement  of  mine 
he  does  not  like?" 

Gerard  started  up,  looking  like  a  man  suddenly  awakened 
out  of  a  deep  sleep. 

"You  must  not,  you  shall  not  bear  it  any  longer,"  said 
he,  in  a  low,  dreamy  voice.  "  You  have  borne  too  much — 
I  did  not  know  how  much.  It  is  not  your  duty  to  stay  with 
a  fiend;  it  could  not  be  required  of  you  by  God  or  man. 
Come,  Netelka,  come  away  to-night — now !  To  stay  under 
the  same  roof  with  him  is  degradation." 

He  was  by  her  side,  not  touching  her,  but  hovering  about 
her  with  the  tenderness  of  a  lover  in  his  eyes.  Netelka 
smiled  and  looked  at  him  with  a  strange  expression,  half 
of  pain,  half  of  a  melancholy  happiness: 

"  It  is  degradation ;  you  are  right.  If  it  had  not  been, 
I  should  not  have  forgotten  my  duty — yes,  my  duty;  we 
will  not  juggle  with  words — for  one  moment  to-night.  Ger- 
ard, you  must  go,  you  must  go  now — at  once.  If  you  stay 
till  the  morning,  I  shall  not  have  strength  to — to — say 
good-by — as  I  do  now,  as  I  do  now.  Good -night,  Gerard, 
and  good-by." 

She  held  out  her  hand,  and  Gerard,  not  seeing  it  for  the 


GOOD-BY.  265 

tears  which  were  filling  his  eyes,  let  her  take  his  fingers  and 
hold  them  for  one  moment  in  hers.  Then  he  heard  her 
voice  low  in  his  ear: 

"You  must  go  io-night — remember." 

His  hand  fell ;  he  dashed  away  the  moisture  from  his 
eyes.  But  she  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

COMPLICATIONS. 

IT  was  about  a  week  after  Netelka's  return  to  "  The  Firs" 
when  Hugh  Thorndyke,  who  was  still  staying  at  his  hotel 
in  town,  was  surprised  to  receive  a  message  brought  by  one 
of  the  servants  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Waller  was  waiting 
below  to  see  him.  Hugh  jumped  up  from  the  sofa  on  which 
he  was  stretched,  threw  down  his  book,  and  went  out  to 
meet  his  friend.  But  the  sight  of  the  young  fellow's  hag- 
gard face  gave  him  a  shock. 

"Hallo!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  beckoned  Gerard  into  his 
sitting-room,  "I'm  awfully  glad  to  see  you  about  again,  old 
man;  but  you  look,  if  anything,  worse  than  when  last  I 
saw  you  at  *  The  Firs.'  You  got  my  letter?" 

Gerard  nodded.  "  It  was  sent  on  to  me.  I'm  not  liv- 
ing at  '  The  Firs  '  now." 

"  I'm  heartily  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  You  need  not  be.  Mrs.  H.  told  me  to  clear  out  on  the 
very  night  her  husband  brought  her  back,  and  I've  been 
thinking  of  nothing  but  Mrs.  H.  ever  since.  I  can't  get 
her  out  of  my  head:  I  can't  get  her  out  of  my  mind.  If 
I  go  up  the  river,  I  see  her  in  every  boat  that  passes ;  if  I 
go  to  the  theatre,  I  see  Netelka  in  every  scene.  My  head 
aches  with  holding  always  the  same  image :  I  want  to  cut 
my  throat." 

He  was  marching  up  and  down  the  room,  ruffling  up  his 
fair  hair  with  his  right  hand,  and  looking  "  rather  mad,"  as 
he  expressed  it,  about  the  eyes. 


COMPLICATIONS.  267 

"Time  you  did  clear  out,  I  think!"  commented  Hugh 
dryly. 

Gerard  planted  himself  opposite  his  friend. 

"  Oh,  you  think  so,  do  you?  Well,  you're  wrong.  Mind, 
I  think  of  all  the  infernal  scoundrels  I've  ever  met  Hil- 
liard  is  the  vilest ;  but  I  don't  think  he'd  have  had  the 
pluck  to  try  to  poison  me  when  his  attempt  to  get  rid  of 
me  in  another  way  had  failed,  and  my  presence  really  was 
some  sort  of  safeguard  for  Netelka." 

"  Her  presence,  though,  was  not  much  of  a  safeguard  for 
you,"  said  Hugh  in  the  same  tone  as  before. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  Don't  I  tell  you  that  it 
was  she  who  sent  me  away?" 

"  Quite  right  of  her;  I  applaud  her  for  it,  though  there's 
no  need  to  go  into  ecstasies  of  admiration  over  a  mere  act 
of  common-sense." 

"Well,  that  will  do.  Or  if  you  want  to  preach  any 
more,  let  me  remind  you  that  listening  is  dry  work." 

"Whiskey  and  soda?"  asked  Hugh,  crossing  the  room 
to  the  sideboard. 

"  Anything.     I've  got  something  to  show  you." 

Hugh  watched  Gerard's  hand  as  the  latter  produced  an 
envelope  from  his  pocket.  Then,  staying  the  hand  before 
he  could  give  him  the  envelope,  Hugh  said,  with  a  smile : 

"You  needn't  show  it  to  me:  I've  got  one  too." 

And  he  took  from  the  mantelpiece  a  similar  envelope, 
addressed  to  himself,  informing  him  that  "  Mrs.  Hilliard" 
would  be  "  at  home"  on  the  following  Thursday,  the  26th, 
"four  to  seven." 

"  Yes,"  said  Gerard,  "  that's  it.     Are  you  going?" 

"  Of  course  I  am.     And  you?" 

"Bather." 

"You'd  better  not." 

"I  know  that;  but  still,  do  you  see,  I'm  going.     I  want 


268  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

to  see  little  Jem.     I  think,  as  a  punishment  to  you  for 
preaching,  I  shall  try  to  cut  you  out." 

Hugh  turned  all  sorts  of  colors,  and  he  answered  very 
shortly : 

"  That  will  be  easy  enough.  I'm  quite  out  of  the  run- 
ning; I've  called  there  twice  in  the  last  week  and  can't 
get  her  to  see  me:  all  through  humoring  a  whim  of 
hers!" 

And,  after  a  little  persuasion,  for  the  whole  affair  was  a 
sore  point  with  him,  Hugh  told  the  story  of  the  engage- 
ment and  its  consequences.  It  did  not  restore  his  wounded 
self-conceit  to  see  Gerard  roll  on  his  sofa  in  fits  of  laughter 
at  his  expense. 

"I've  no  doubt  it  seems  to  you  exceedingly  funny,"  said 
he,  with  coolness.  "  And  I  dare  say  it  will  add  to  your  en- 
joyment of  the  joke  to  hear  that  Mrs.  Collingham  was  very 
cold  when  I  called,  thinking  I  must  have  done  something 
awful  for  Jem  to  refuse  to  see  me." 

At  this  Gerard  laughed  so  much  as  seriously  to  imperil 
the  good  accord  which  existed  between  him  and  Hugh. 
Before,  however,  Hugh  had  made  up  his  mind  whether  he 
should  be  deeply  offended,  Gerard  perceived  the  danger  and 
apologized.  Then  Hugh  affected  to  be  entirely  indifferent 
about  it. 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  spoke,  when  I  saw  you  last,  as  if 
you  were  really  hard-hit?"  said  Gerard,  trying  to  speak 
with  great  solemnity. 

But  this  Hugh  would  not  now  acknowledge. 

"  Oh,  come  now,  you  are  calling  in  the  aid  of  imagina- 
tion!" answered  he,  with  a  forced  laugh.  "Of  course  it 
isn't  pleasant  for  one's  vanity,  a  thing  of  this  kind.  But 
I  don't  trouble  myself  about  the  girl  except  on  that  account. 
I  have  something  more  important  to  talk  to  you  about. 
Have  you  seen  this?" 


COMPLICATIONS.  269 

Hugh  handed  him  that  morning's  Daily  News,  pointing 
out  the  following  paragraph : 

EXCITING  CHASE  OF  A  LUNATIC. 

Our  Warchester  correspondent  telegraphs :  "  This  morning  an 
exciting  chase,  fortunately  ending  in  the  recapture  of  the  fugitive, 
took  place  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  An  elderly  gentleman 
named  Richard  Linley  Dax,  who  has  been  for  some  years  an  inmate 
of  a  private  lunatic  asylum  a  few  miles  from  here,  effected  his  es- 
cape, and,  after  crossing  the  fields  in  his  dressing-gown  and  slippers, 
caused  considerable  consternation  among  the  inhabitants  of  a  farm- 
house, into  which  he  had  crept  on  finding  himself  pursued.  Fortu- 
nately he  was  secured  without  much  difficulty,  but  not  before  he 
had  attacked  one  of  the  farm  servants  with  a  hatchet,  this  being,  we 
understand,  his  fourth  attempt  at  homicide. " 

"Now,  Linley  Dax  is  an  uncommon  combination,"  said 
Hugh  when  Gerard  had  read  the  paragraph.  "  And  I  hap- 
pen to  know  that  Hilliard's  real  name  is  Linley  Dax. 
Now,  don't  you  think  it's  reasonable  to  suppose  that  this 
lunatic  is  some  relation  of  his,  and  that  there's  insanity  in 
his  blood?" 

Gerard,  much  impressed,  concurred  in  this  view,  and  they 
resolved  to  make  some  inquiries  starting  upon  this  basis. 

"If  we  could  prove  Linley  insane  and  shut  him  up," 
suggested  Hugh,  "at  any  rate  we  could  save  her  from  the 
risk  of  being  murdered  by  a  maniac,  which  it  seems  to  me 
there  is  a  good  prospect  of  Linley 's  becoming,  if,  as  I  am 
inclined  to  suspect,  he  is  not  one  already." 

Gerard  looked  gloomily  at  his  friend. 

"Not  a  very  lively  prospect  that,"  said  he,  "of  being 
tied  for  life  to  a  lunatic!" 

"At  any  rate,  it's  better  than  being  murdered  by  one," 
retorted  Hugh. 

This  was  unanswerable,  and  the  subject  dropped. 

Qn  Thursday,  the  26th,  when  Mrs.  Hilliard  received  her 


270  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

friends,  she  was  looking  her  very  best.  Hugh  and  Gerard, 
who  went  down  together,  were  astonished  at  her  brilliant 
appearance.  She  was  always  well  dressed,  being  one  of 
those  women  whose  natural  advantages  of  figure  and  car- 
riage, increased  by  good  taste,  give  a  grace  to  their  clothes, 
instead  of  being  indebted  to  them.  On  this  occasion  she 
wore  very  pale  pink  silk  with  a  dull-ribbed  surface,  covered 
with  string-colored  chiffon  embroidered  in  silk  of  the  same 
color.  Her  throat  was  just  long  enough  for  her  to  bear  a 
band  of  black  velvet,  which  she  wore  studded  with  dia- 
mond daisies. 

The  entertainment  was  an  idea  of  Linley's,  by  which  he 
proposed  to  dissipate  the  air  of  mystery  and  of  something 
worse  which  "  The  Firs"  had  acquired,  and  to  inaugurate 
a  new  era  of  unimpeachable  respectability.  The  choice  of 
guests  was  his  own,  and  the  gathering  was  a  miscellaneous 
one.  A  selection  of  the  habitues  of  the  place,  including 
Hugh  Thorndyke  and  Gerard  "Waller,  Lady  Kenslow  and 
a  friend,  the  party  from  "Maisonette,"  a  few  acquaint- 
ances of  Harrington  Moseley's;  and  a  selection  of  local 
people  who  came  for  the  first  and  last  time  out  of  curiosity 
— these  were  the  component  parts  of  an  assemblage  which 
differed  from  the  usual  afternoon  at  home  in  the  prepon- 
derance of  the  male  sex. 

The  weather  being  fine,  Netelka,  who  had  tied  herself  in 
her  invitations  to  no  particular  form  of  entertainment,  had 
made  it,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  a  garden  party.  The 
two  lawns  were  dotted  with  enormous  Japanese  sunshades, 
under  which  groups  of  chairs  were  placed  invitingly.  Ne- 
telka  affected  to  regard  the  whole  affair  as  a  dreary  joke. 

"There  are  the  usual  desperately  dull  entertainments:  a 
fortune-teller  who  doesn't  even  interest  you  in  what  she 
says,  though  she  looks  very  nice ;  a  quartet  who  sing  hor- 
ribly out  of  tune,  and  who  trample  down  my  carnations  in 


COMPLICATIONS.  271 

their  search  for  a  place  on  the  flower-bed  where  they  will 
look  picturesque,  and  there  are  warm  ices  and  cold  tea  in 
that  room  which  opens  on  to  the  garden.  It  is  very  good 
of  you  to  come  and  be  bored." 

This  was  her  greeting  to  Hugh  and  Gerard,  with  whom 
she  shook  hands  in  exactly  the  same  manner  as  she  had  done 
with  her  other  guests.  Gerard  was  stupefied,  chilled.  He 
was  shy  and  reserved  with  her,  and  left  the  talking  to 
Hugh. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear,"  Netelka  went  on,  turning  to  Hugh, 
with  a  mischievous  glance  at  Mrs.  Collingham  and  her 
stepdaughter,  who  were  standing  near,  "  that  you  have,  in 
some  unknown  way,  which  I  cannot  discover,  deeply  of- 
fended Jem  and  her  mamma.  I  thought,  as  Jem  came 
down  to  Hastings  under  your  escort,  that  you  were  the  best 
of  friends."  Hugh  was  astonished  at  the  coolness  with 
which  she  alluded  to  the  Hastings  incident. 

"The  charm  of  your  sex,"  he  answered,  "  is  its  unexpect- 
edness. Jem  and  I  were  good  friends  when  I  saw  you  last : 
we  are  not  now.  That  is  all  I  can  tell  you  about  it.  It  is 
all  I  know  myself." 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  he  was  not  so  indifferent  as  he 
wished  to  appear.  Netelka  smiled  archly  as  she  turned  to 
Gerard. 

"It's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good,"  she  said  sig- 
nificantly. "  Come  and  take  Miss  Collingham  to  have  her 
fortune  told." 

Gerard  hung  back  a  little. 

"  Let  Thorn  dyke  take  her,"  murmured  he,  with  a  plead- 
ing look. 

But  at  that  moment  Mrs.  Collingham  caught  sight  of 
him  and  rushed  at  him  with  outstretched  hands.  Before 
he  had  recovered  breath  from  her  attack  he  found  him- 
self told  off,  he  hardly  knew  how,  with  Jem,  and  they  were 


272  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

walking  across  the  lawn  in  the  direction  of  the  fortune- 
teller's tent. 

"  You  didn't  want  to  come  with  me,  I  know,"  said  Jem, 
in  a  tone  full  of  mingled  despair  and  resentment. 

"  Only  because  I  knew  how  much  Thorndyke  would  have 
liked  it,"  answered  Gerard.  "And  I'm  afraid  he'll  punch 
my  head  as  we  go  back  to  town,  just  to  restore  the  balance 
which  Providence  has  disturbed." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  asked  Jem  rather  crossly. 

"  It  is  my  elegant  and  literary  way  of  expressing  the  fact 
that  fate  has  been  kindlier  to  me  than  I  deserve  in  letting 
me  have  the  pleasure  of  your  society." 

"You  needn't  talk  like  that  to  me.  And  don't  talk 
about  Mr.  Thorndyke  at  all:  I  hate  him!" 

Gerard  stopped  short,  overcome  by  surprise. 

"  You  hate  him?  You  ungrateful  girl !  When  the  only 
fault  you  have  to  find  with  him  is  that  he  has  been  too  sub- 
missive to  your  whims!" 

The  words  were  out  before  Gerard  had  had  time  to  con- 
sider the  enormity  of  the  offence  he  was  committing  in 
bullying  a  lady.  Jem  smothered  a  sob.  Finding  he  was 
"  in  for  it,"  Gerard  threw  scruples  to  the  winds  and  bullied 
her  still  more. 

"  I'm  going  to  live  in  Asia,"  said  he,  decidedly.  "I'm 
tired  of  the  airs  European  women  give  themselves.  Here 
in  this  mismanaged  hemisphere  we  poor  men  are  martyrs  to 
the  caprices  of  girls  who  don't  know  their  own  minds,  and 
don't  know  how  much  better  off  than  they  deserve  they  are 
when  a  decent  man  takes  a  fancy  to  one  of  them !  Why,  if 
I  were  a  girl  and  a  man  like  Hugh  Thorndyke  honored  me 
with  his  notice,  I  should  go  down  on  my  knees  and  kiss  his 
feet!" 

Jem  raised  her  head  with  a  sudden  movement  of  indig- 
nation and  resentment. 


COMPLICATIONS.  273 

"  Really,  I  think  the  sooner  you  go  to  Asia  the  better," 
she  said  haughtily.  "  And  I  hope  you'll  persuade  your 
friend  Mr.  Thorndyke  to  go  with  you." 

"  He  is  going  up  to  his  home  in  Yorkshire  either  to- 
morrow or  the  day  after.  And  as  he  will  no  doubt  speedily 
choose  a  wife  from  among  the  throng  of  girls  who  will  be 
ready  and  anxious  to  have  him,  you  will  find  him  practi- 
cally as  far  away  as  you  could  desire." 

"I'm  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  snapped  out  Jem. 

And,  having  by  this  time  reached  the  fortune-teller's 
tent,  they  entered  in  silence,  each  feeling  a  little  resent- 
ment against  the  other  because  each  would  have  chosen  a 
different  companion.  Gerard  wanted  another  conversa- 
tion, a  final  adieu,  in  fact,  with  Netelka;  while  Jem  was 
conscious,  in  a  dim,  vague  way,  that  a  tete-a-tete  with 
Gerard  was  no  longer  the  highest  pleasure  the  world  could 
afford  her. 
18 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

KNAVES   FALL  OUT. 

HUGH  THOKNDYKE  had  lost  no  time  in  securing  a  talk 
•with  Lady  Kenslow,  who,  in  gray  satin  with  touches  of  old 
lace,  looked  as  charming  a  picture  of  graceful  middle-age 
as  her  niece  did  of  brilliant  youth.  Hugh  found  her  a  seat 
under  a  beech-tree  which  spread  its  grateful  shade  over  a 
corner  of  the  lawn,  from  which  they  could  see  the  tennis, 
with  which  a  few  enthusiasts  were  beguiling  the  sultry 
hours. 

"  I  have  been  dying,  as  they  say,  for  this  opportunity," 
said  he,  as  he  handed  her  the  cup  of  tea  she  had  asked  for. 

Lady  Kenslow  knew  what  was  coming,  or  at  least  she 
knew  what  the  subject  was  that  he  was  going  to  introduce. 
She  inclined  her  head  gravely,  and  he  went  on : 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  you  in  as  few  words  as  I  can  the 
fresh  reason  I  have  for  asking  you  to  induce  Netelka  to 
leave  her  husband. " 

"  1  will  hear  you,  and  I  will  hear  your  reason,"  answered 
Lady  Kenslow,  imperturbably.  "  But  I  warn  you  that  I 
shall  not  interfere  between  any  wife  and  her  husband.  You 
know  my  views  on  that  subject.  I  think  the  best  woman 
in  the  world  married  to  the  worst  man  suffers  more  by  sep- 
arating from  her  husband  than  by  remaining  with  him. 
Need  I  say  any  more?  Knowing  this,  are  you  not  wasting 
your  time  with  me?" 

"  No.  I  want  to  argue  the  matter  with  you.  Your  view 
might  be  all  very  well  in  the  days  when  women  were  looked 
upon  as  mere  chattels;  but  now  that  they  are  treated  as 


KNAVES  FALL  OUT.  275 

reasoning  beings,  with  control  over  their  own  property,  and 
that  they're  expected  to  have  minds  and  ideas  of  their  own, 
don't  you  think  they  lose  their  self-respect  if  they  remain 
tied  to  a  scoundrel?" 

"  There  may  be  some  risk  of  that.  But  I  maintain  that 
the  wife  of  a  scoundrel  who  remains  with  her  husband  as 
long  as  there  is  a  hope  that  her  presencee  may  prove  a  re- 
straint, or  even  a  comfort  to  him,  is  in  a  better  position 
than  the  wife  of  a  scoundrel  unattached  about  the  world." 

"  Then  you  make  your  own  sex  occupy  a  very  subordinate 
and  degraded  position." 

"  Subordinate,  not  necessarily  degraded.  And  the  sub- 
ordinacy  is  nature's  doing,  not  mine." 

"  But  do  you  know  what  this  Hilliard,  or  Dax,  has  been 
trying  to  do?" 

"I  know  all  that  is  alleged  against  him,  but  nothing 
seems  to  have  been  proved.  Netelka  and  I  had  a  long  talk 
this  morning;  she  told  me  everything,  and  I  heartily  ap- 
plauded her  resolution  of  remaining  with  him  in  spite  of  it 
all." 

"  Have  you  read  this?"  asked  Hugh,  as  he  handed  to  her 
the  paragraph  from  the  morning's  paper  about  the  escape 
of  a  lunatic. 

Lady  Kenslow  read  it  through  with  evident  interest. 

"  I  should  think,"  said  she  as  she  handed  it  back  to  him, 
"  that  this  is  more  than  a  coincidence.  Such — such  moral 
perversity — shall  we  say? — as  Linley's  has  certainly  some- 
thing in  common  with  what  we  call  lunacy." 

"And  it  does  not  cause  you  to  alter  your  opinion?" 

"  Not  in  the  least.  There  are  more  dangers  and  diffi- 
culties for  Netelka  if  she  leaves  her  husband  than  if  she 
braves  the  peril  of  his  becoming  a  maniac." 

And  as  she  spoke,  Lady  Kenslow  involuntarily  glanced 
toward  the  spot  where  Gerard  sat  beside  Jem,  with  his  eyes 


276  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

fixed,  not  on  her,  but  on  the  graceful  figure  in  veiled  rose- 
color  that  flitted  about  among  the  groups  on  the  lawn. 
Hugh's  eyes  followed  the  direction  of  hers;  and  in  the  an- 
noyance he  felt  at  seeing  Gerard  and  Jem  side  by  side, 
talking  in  an  evidently  confidential  manner,  he  forgot  the 
subject  which  had  been  occupying  his  mind  in  one  which 
interested  him  still  more  deeply. 

In  the  pause  which  followed,  Lady  Kenslow,  who  had 
given  the  entertainment  the  light  of  her  presence  to  sig- 
nify her  approval  of  Netelka's  course  of  action,  was  seized 
upon  by  Linley,  who  was  very  proud  of  the  honor  conferred 
upon  "  The  Firs"  by  her  visit.  Hugh,  left  by  himself, 
found  his  elbow  touched,  and,  turning  his  head,  saw  Har- 
rington Moseley  standing  by  his  side. 

"  Very  nice  of  her  ladyship  to  come  down,  wasn't  it?"  said 
the  Jew,  who  was  following  Linley  with  glances  in  which 
Hugh  thought  he  detected  unusual  intensity.  "  Done  to 
please  Mrs.  H.,  of  course.  Her  ladyship  wouldn't  go  out 
of  her  way  to  oblige  Linley,  I'm  thinking!" 

Hugh  did  not  love  the  Jew,  but  he  was  curious  to  know 
on  what  terms  he  and  his  partner  stood  to  each  other,  for 
there  was  little  appreciation  of  Linley  in  Harrington  Mose- 
ley's  tone.  So  Hugh  said : 

"  Well,  he's  only  her  relation  by  marriage.  There's  no 
necessity  for  any  great  show  of  affection  between  them." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  who  could  show  great  affection 
for  a  fish-blooded  creature  like  Linley!"  cried  the  Jew,  with 
an  appearance  of  indignation  which  Hugh  did  not  at  first 
trust. 

"  Don't  you  like  him,  then?"  asked  Hugh,  who  felt  him- 
self invited  to  ask  a  question. 

The  answer  came  in  a  tone  of  convincing  sincerity : 

"Like  him!  No,  I  should  think  not!  I  tell  you  what 
it  is," — and  Harrington  Moseley,  much  to  Hugh's  disgust, 


KNAVES  FALL  OUT.  277 

took  him  by  the  buttonhole,  lifting  up  his  head  in  the  en- 
deavor to  get  nearer  the  Yorkshireman's level, — "I — I'm 
afraid  of  him !  I  think  he's  going  off  his  head — I  do  in- 
deed. He  talks  to  his  china!  I've  heard  him.  Now,  do 
you  think  that's  the  sort  of  thing  a  man  would  do  while  he 
was  altogether  sane?  Do  you,  I  ask  you?" 

"It's  eccentric,  certainly,"  assented  Hugh. 

But  his  face  changed,  for  this  piece  of  information  about 
Linley's  habits  bore  to  him  even  a  greater  significance  than 
it  did  to  Moseley. 

In  spite  of  Netelka's  depreciation  of  the  entertainment 
she  was  offering  her  guests,  the  afternoon  was  undoubtedly 
a  very  successful  one.  It  may  be  that  the  dubious  reputa- 
tion "  The  Firs"  had  acquired  gave  a  pleasant  zest  to  the 
commonplaces  of  a  garden-party :  certainly  the  conversation 
was  livelier,  the  langhter  was  more  frequent  than  is  gener- 
ally the  case  at  these  solemn  functions.  When  the  evening 
shadows  had  grown  long  upon  the  grass  and  the  groups  on 
the  lawn  had  begun  to  thin,  Mrs.  Collingham,  as  she  shook 
hands  with  Netelka  and  assured  her  that  she  had  spent 
such  a  delightful  afternoon,  drew  Mrs.  Hilliard's  attention 
to  the  fact  that  Linley  had  for  some  time  been  lost  sight 
of. 

"  I  couldn't  go  without  seeing  dear  Mr.  Hilliard  and  wish- 
ing him  good-by, "  went  on  Mrs.  Collingham.  "  You  know  I 
am  quite  in  love  with  him ;  he  makes  all  the  other  men  one 
knows  seem  so  noisy  and  so  coarse!" 

"I  dare  say  he  has  gone  into  the  house  with  my  aunt," 
said  Netelka,  looking  round  and  failing  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  her  husband. 

"  No,  she  is  with  Mr.  Moseley.  The  last  I  saw  of  your 
husband  was  when  he  was  introducing  Mr.  Moseley  to  Lady 
Kenslow,  and  they  walked  away  together — Mr.  Moseley 
and  Lady  Kenslow,  I  mean.  Do,  dear  Mrs.  Hilliard,  try 


278  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

and  find  your  husband  for  me.  I  want  particularly  to  ask 
him  to  come  round  to  our  little  place  to-morrow  night." 

It  was  rather  awkward  for  Netelka  to  have  to  leave  the 
terrace  when  her  guests  had  begun  to  come  up  to  take  their 
leave,  but  as  at  that  particular  moment  she  was  unoccu- 
pied, she  good-naturedly  stepped  into  the  house,  with  the 
intention  of  sending  a  servant  to  look  for  Linley.  As  it 
happened,  she  did  not  meet  one ;  but  as  she  reached  the 
bottom  of  the  back  staircase  in  her  search,  she  heard  a  slight 
noise  above  her  head,  and  looking  up  between  the  winding 
banisters  she  called,  thinking  she  recognized  her  husband's 
soft  footfall: 

"  Linley,  Linley,  is  that  you?" 

There  was  no  answer,  but  there  was  another  slight  noise, 
and  then  some  small  object  rolled  down  the  upper  part  of 
the  staircase.  Netelka  ran  up  the  stairs  to  see  what  it 
was,  and  half-way  up  the  top  flight  she  picked  up  a  massive 
gold  ring  set  with  a  single  diamond,  which  she  recognized 
as  Harrington  Moseley's.  Now  really  alarmed,  she  looked 
up,  and  seeing  no  one,  ran  quickly  to  the  top  of  the  stairs, 
and  was  just  in  time  to  see  the  shadow  of  a  man  who  was 
disappearing  into  the  corridor  on  the  left. 

She  gave  chase  at  once ;  and  being  fleet  of  foot,  overtook 
the  man  just  as  he  was  shutting  himself  into  her  husband's 
dressing-room.  And  it  was  Linley  himself. 

"L — L — inley,"  she  stammered,  with  blanched  cheeks, 
"look,  look  at  what  I've  found — on  the  back  staircase! 
You  know  it;  it  is  Moseley's." 

And  she  showed  him  the  ring  which  she  had  picked  up. 

Linley  took  it  from  her  and  turned  it  over ;  and  Netelka, 
•watching  him,  saw  he  was  making  up  his  mind  what  he 
should  say. 

"  So  it  is,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Do  you  know,  Netta,  I  be- 
lieve that  there's  been  some  one  in  Moseley's  rooms  taking 


KNAVES  FALL  OUT.  279 

advantage  of  what  has  been  going  on?  I  heard  a  noise  up 
there,  and  fancied  I  caught  sight  of  somebody — I  did  indeed. 
I  think  we  ought  to  call  him  up  and  ask  him  if  he  misses 
anything. 

He  spoke  gravely,  as  the  nature  of  his  communication 
warranted.  But  he  was  quite  cool  and  collected,  and  it  was 
not  from  his  manner  that  Netelka  received  the  impression 
which  at  once  possessed  her.  They  were  in  the  dressing- 
room,  the  door  of  which  still  stood  open.  For  a  moment 
Netelka  did  not  answer  her  husband,  but  stared  at  him  with 
eloquent  eyes  full  of  a  new  fear.  Then  her  glance  fell  from 
his  face  to  his  hands,  and  she  saw  his  right  hand  move 
stealthily  toward  his  right  side. 

"Linley,  you're  a  thief!" 

The  words  were  a  moan  of  despair.  As  she  uttered  them, 
the  miserable  wife  tore  open  her  husband's  coat,  and  plung- 
ing her  fingers  into  the  pocket  toward  which  she  had  seen 
his  fingers  wander,  she  drew  out  and  flung  upon  the  floor, 
one  after  another,  articles  of  jewelry,  handful  of  bank- 
notes, and  a  bag  of  gold.  Then,  before  she  had  exhausted 
the  hoards,  she  suddenly  drew  back,  and  bursting  into  a 
fit  of  wild  weeping,  staggered  to  the  dressing-table,  and 
falling  on  her  knees  beside  it,  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

She  was  so  utterly  overcome  with  grief  and  despair  that 
she  did  not  remark  the  strange  silence  with  which  Linley 
received  her  violent  action  and  her  demonstrative  out- 
break of  grief.  She  did  hear  the  door  of  the  room  shut, 
but  it  was  only  with  physical  hearing:  she  did  not  ask 
herself  whether  he  had  shut  himself  in  or  shut  himself  out; 
she  did  not  know  whether  she  was  alone  or  whether  her 
husband  was  still  by  her  side.  The  sound  reached  her 
ears;  that  was  all.  The  shame,  the  agony  of  her  discovery, 
the  first  absolute  assurance  of  her  husband's  villany  she 
had  had,  the  first  tangible  proof  from  which  she  could  not 


280  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

escape,  were  so  overwhelming  that  at  first  her  mind  could 
take  in  no  other  impression.  But  she  had  suspected  Linley 
too  long  and  too  deeply  not  to  be  able,  before  many  minutes 
had  passed,  to  take  a  clear  view  of  the  situation.  A  ray  of 
light  seemed  to  fall  upon  her  dim  sight  as  she  told  herself 
that  now  surely  the  climax  was  come,  and  the  odium  of 
having  to  share  the  life  of  this  man  was  at  an  end. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet. 

But  at  that  moment  she  heard  behind  her  a  sound  like 
the  growl  of  an  angry  dog,  and  at  the  same  moment  she 
caught  sight  in  the  looking-glass  of  a  face  which,  distorted 
and  livid  with  rage,  was  hardly  recognizable  as  the  calm 
mask  her  husband's  features  usually  wore. 

She  saw  him  raise  his  arm,  she  saw  that  his  hand  held  a 
weapon  of  some  kind.  The  next  moment  she  was  lying 
senseless  on  the  floor,  felled  by  a  rain  of  savage  blows. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

METHOD   OB  MADNESS? 

FOB  one  moment,  when  Linley  had  laid  his  wife  sense- 
less on  the  floor,  he  looked  down  at  her  with  an  expression 
of  something  like  self-reproach  on  his  face.  After  all,  she 
had  had  something  to  put  up  with  at  his  hands,  and  she  had 
been,  on  the  whole,  pretty  submissive  to  his  will  on  most 
points.  If  the  blows  on  the  head  which  he  had  just  ad- 
ministered to  her  had  chanced  to  light  on  her  face,  disfig- 
uring and  discoloring  it,  certainly  the  loving  husband  would 
have  turned  away  without  another  look.  But  she  had  es- 
caped this  last  outrage  at  her  husband's  hands;  and  having 
discovered,  by  a  glance  at  the  Indian  club  which  he  had  torn 
down  from  the  mantelpiece  as  a  convenient  weapon,  that 
there  was  no  blood  upon  it,  Linley  felt  an  impulse  of  real 
gratitude  to  his  wife  for  being  knocked  down  so  easily  and 
so  neatly. 

The  danger  of  being  discovered  by  Harrington  Moseley 
and  seized  on  as  the  purloiner  of  his  property  before  he 
could  make  his  story  fit  in  nicely  at  all  its  points  excited 
Linley  out  of  the  fishy  insensibility  to  his  wife's  charms  into 
which  he  had  largely  suffered  himself  to  sink. 

"How  handsome  she  is!"  thought  he,  as  he  noticed  the 
delicacy  of  her  clear  complexion  contrasting  with  the  masses 
of  her  dark  hair,  which  had  become  slightly  loosened  by  her 
fall. 

He  dropped  on  one  knee  to  look  into  her  face,  with  the 
abstract  admiration  of  a  stranger.  But  as  he  did  so,  he 
perceived  a  stream  of  blood  slowly  oozing  from  her  head 


282  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

and  staining  the  matting  underneath.  He  recoiled  at  once 
with  disgust,  and  rising  hastily,  replaced  the  Indian  club 
on  its  nail  against  the  wall  and  left  the  room,  locking  the 
door  behind  him. 

He  had  hardly  got  a  dozen  steps  down  the  corridor  on  his 
way  back  to  the  garden  when  he  heard  Moseley's  voice  call- 
ing to  him  by  name.  So  he  doubled  back  on  his  own  foot- 
steps, ran  down  the  back  staircase,  and  slipped  into  the 
study,  where  he  sat  down  hastily  at  the  writing-table  and 
began  to  write  a  letter. 

As  he  expected,  he  was  soon  unearthed  by  Harrington 
Moseley,  who  burst  open  the  door  and  asked  him  what  had 
become  of  Mrs.  Hilliard.  Lady  Kenslow  was  going  away, 
and  wanted  to  say  good-by  to  her  niece. 

"In  fact,  everybody's  waiting  about  to  say  good-by," 
went  on  the  Jew.  "And  it  looks  so  odd,  and  it's  such  a 
pity,  too,  when  everything's  gone  off  so  well!  Where  is  she? 
Do  you  know?" 

"  The  fatigue  has  been  too  much  for  her,"  answered  Lin- 
ley,  who  had  overlooked  this  difficulty  in  his  excitement. 
"  She  said  she  should  go  upstairs  and  lie  down  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  that  if  she  didn't  come  down  again  I  was  to 
make  her  apologies  to  everybody." 

"Well,  why  aren't  you  making  them,"  asked  the  Jew 
sharply,  "instead  of  sitting  here  quietly,  writing?  Come 
and  explain  to  her  ladyship  and  the  rest  at  once." 

Linley  got  up  from  his  seat  and  followed  Moseley  into 
the  drawing-room,  where,  in  the  coolest  manner  possible, 
he  gave  his  explanation  and  Netelka's  apology.  Lady 
Kenslow,  although  she  did  not  for  a  moment  believe  the 
excuse  given,  was  inclined  to  accept  it  and  to  go  quietly 
away  in  order  to  let  the  incident  pass  over  as  quickly  as 
possible  and  without  attracting  more  attention  to  it  than 
was  necessary.  She  thought  that  there  had  been  a  quarrel 


METHOD  OR  MADNESS  f  283 

of  some  sort  between  Linley  and  his  wife,  though  she  did 
not  imagine  what  a  serious  form  the  dispute  had  taken. 

"Give  her  my  love,"  said  she,  "and  tell  her  how  much 
disappointed  I  am  at  not  being  able  to  see  her  again — in 
fact,  tell  her  that  we  are  all  disappointed,  and  that  we  do 
hope  that  after  a  night's  rest  she  will  be  quite  herself 
again." 

Lady  Kenslow  glanced  to  right  and  left  as  she  spoke,  at 
the  ladies  standing  near  her,  in  order  to  join  them  all  in 
her  message,  as  they  were  waiting  about,  like  herself,  to 
exchange  a  few  words  with  their  hostess  before  going  away. 
They  all,  including  Mrs.  Collingham,  gave  assenting  mur- 
murs to  this  speech  and  prepared  to  go,  when  Gerard,  who 
had  at  once  noted  Netleka's  disappearance  and  who  had 
been  waiting  about  for  her  return,  went  up  to  Lady  Kens- 
low  and  spoke  low  in  her  ear. 

"I  beg  you,  Lady  Kenslow,"  said  he,  in  a  voice  which 
betrayed  his  agitation,  "  not  to  go  away  until  you  have  seen 
her — seen  Mrs.  Hilliard.  Don't  you  see  how  strange  it 
looks?  I  saw  her  go  into  the  house  looking  perfectly  well 
and  bright,  and  do  you  believe  she  would  send  down  such 
a  message?  And  that  she  wouldn't  want  to  see  you  at  any 
rate?"  pursued  the  young  fellow,  growing  more  earnest  as 
he  fancied  he  noted  a  glance  of  anxiety  cast  by  Linley  in 
his  direction. 

Lady  Kenslow  hesitated,  only  for  a  moment.  Then  she 
became  infected  with  Gerard's  own  anxiety. 

"I  think,  Liuley,"  she  said  in  her  calm,  measured  voice, 
"  that  I  will  go  up  and  see  Netelka  before  I  go.  She  won't 
mind  me,  I'm  sure.  If  her  head  aches  too  much  to  let  her 
talk,  I  will  just  give  her  a  kiss  and  come  away." 

Linley's  white  hands  began  to  twitch  a  little.  But  he 
did  not  betray  himself  further  than  by  this  scarcely  percep- 
tible sign  of  agitation. 


284  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"As  yon  please,  Lady  Kenslow,"  said  he,  as  he  stepped 
forward  to  open  the  door  for  her.  "  But  don't  let  her  talk 
much.  You  know  the  way  upstairs,  don't  you?  I  want 
to  stay  and  say  good-by  to  the  people  for  her." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  the  way,  but  I  dare  say  I  can  find  it. 
You  forget  that  I've  not  been  here  before,"  answered  Lady 
Kenslow. 

Gerard  sprang  forward. 

"Let  me  show  you,"  said  he.  And  he  was  half-way  up 
the  stairs  before  Linley  could  make  any  objection. 

"This  is  the  door  of  Mrs.  Hilliard's  room,"  said  Gerard 
when  he  had  conducted  Lady  Kenslow  upstairs.  "  Let  me 
know  how  she  is,  please,"  said  he  pleadingly,  as  she  knocked 
at  the  door. 

The  lady  was  touched  by  the  anxiety  in  his  pale  face. 
She  shook  her  head  gently,  but  her  words  were  kind. 

"  Poor  boy !"  said  she.  "  You  are  silly  to  trouble  your 
head ;  but, — poor  boy " 

"Why  silly?"  asked  Gerard  sharply,  his  blue  eyes  sud- 
denly flashing.  "Why  silly,  Lady  Kenslow?" 

"  Because  lads  like  you  should  find  their  friends  among 
young  girls  and  happily  married  wives. " 

"  Then,  is  the  unhappily  married  woman  to  have  no 
friends?"  asked  Gerard,  with  warmth. 

"None  of  your  sex,"  answered  Lady  Kenslow  briefly  as, 
after  knocking  a  second  and  third  time  in  vain,  she  opened 
the  door  of  the  room  and  went  in. 

A  minute  later  she  came  out  again,  with  a  perturbed  ex- 
pression of  face. 

"  She  is  not  there,"  she  said  in  an  agitated  voice. 

Gerard's  eyes  blazed. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  ?"  said  he  shortly.  "  We  must  find 
her." 

Lady  Kenslow  agreed,  and  he  became  the  leader  in  the 


METHOD  OR  MADNESS  t  285 

search.  He  pointed  out  the  door  of  Netelka's  boudoir,  and 
then  the  room  Linley  had  been  using  as  a  bedroom,  and 
next  the  dressing-room  adjoining.  Lady  Kenslow  tried 
the  handle  of  this  last  and  found  it  locked.  She  had 
scarcely  stepped  back,  crying  out  that  the  door  would  not 
open,  when  a  loud  cry  fromHarrington  Moseley,  at  the  op- 
posite end  of  the  house,  startled  them  both.  The  next  mo- 
ment he  came  running  heavily  along  the  corridor  toward 
them. 

"There's  a  thief  in  the  house,  a  thief!"  he  panted  out 
with  startling  eyes.  "  My  desk,  my  drawers,  have  been 
burst  open.  I've  lost  hundreds  of  pounds'  worth,  hundreds 
of  pounds!" 

A  suspicion  flashed  into  Gerard's  mind,  and  perhaps 
Lady  Kenslow  read  it  in  his  eyes. 

"  You  had  better  call  Milliard,"  said  Gerard  rather  dryly. 
"  Perhaps  he  can  help  you  to  look  for  the  thief. " 

Gerard's  face  had  grown  whiter:  this  one  sensational  oc- 
currence had  perhaps  prepared  him  for  something  more 
tragic.  He  turned  quickly  to  Lady  Kenslow. 

"Stand  back!"  he  said.  "I'm  going  to  burst  the  door 
open.  Here,  Moseley,  lend  a  hand!  "We  can't  find  Mrs. 
Hilliard,  and  this  door  is  locked." 

There  was  something  in  his  voice  and  manner  which 
caused  the  Jew,  even  in  the  midst  of  his  own  excitement 
over  his  loss,  to  do  his  bidding.  They  put  their  shoulders 
against  the  door — they  pushed — they  forced  it  open. 

Gerard  was  the  first  to  see  the  body  of  Netelka  lying  on 
the  floor. 

"He  has  killed  her!"  cried  he,  and  he  reeled  forward 
and  fell  on  his  knees  beside  the  unconscious  woman. 

Harrington  Moseley  turned  pale. 

"What,  what!"  stammered  he.  "Killed  her!  Killed 
Mrs.  Hilliard !  Who  has  done  it?  Who,  I  say?" 


286  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

But  Gerard  had  no  more  words  to  waste  on  him.  He 
turned  to  Lady  Kenslow,  with  a  look  only,  but  a  look  so 
full  of  entreaty  that  she  understood  it  at  once,  and,  rousing 
herself  from  the  momentary  stupefaction  into  which  the 
discovery  of  her  niece's  apparently  lifeless  body  had  plunged 
her,  she  ran  to  the  bell. 

In  a  very  few  minutes  help  was  at  hand  in  abundance. 
The  servants  came  up ;  the  doctor  was  fetched ;  Netelka  was 
pronounced  to  be  alive,  but  so  seriously  injured  about  the 
head  as  to  be  in  danger.  She  was  carried  into  her  own 
room,  and  every  one  was  shut  out  except  Lady  Kenslow  and 
one  of  the  oldest  and  quietest  of  the  worn  an- servants. 

Meanwhile  Harrington  Moseley  was  working  himself  into 
a  state  of  mind  which  bordered  on  madness.  His  suspi- 
cions of  his  partner  having  been  aroused  by  Gerard's  words, 
he  had  rushed  downstairs  in  search  of  Linley,  and  not  suc- 
ceeding in  finding  him,  had  questioned  the  servants.  Had 
they  seen  Mr.  Hilliard?  But  he  got  from  each  the  same 
answer.  No  one  had  seen  him. 

At  last,  when  he  had  come  to  his  wit's  end  between 
doubts  of  his  partner  and  the  fear  of  making  himself  ridic- 
ulous, he  heard  himself  called  by  name  in  a  soft  voice  as  he 
was  passing  the  drawing-room  window  after  a  final  frantic 
rush  round  the  grounds. 

"Mr.  Moseley,  Mr.  Moseley!" 

The  Jew  turned  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with  Jem, 
who  looked  pale  and  tired,  but  exceedingly  pretty  in  a  plain 
holland  frock  trimmed  with  torchon  lace,  and  a  heliotrope- 
colored  sash. 

She  had  been  behaving  beautifully.  All  the  ladies  who 
had  any  degree  of  intimacy  with  Mrs.  Hilliard  having  left 
the  house  before  the  alarm  was  given,  she,  who  had  been 
left  behind  by  Mrs.  Collingham  at  her  own  request,  had 
taken  upon  herself  promptly,  and  with  a  modesty  which 


METHOD  OR   MADNESS  t  287 

was  a  grace,  the  task  of  reassuring  the  remaining  guests, 
and  of  taking  Netelka's  place  to  wish  them  good-by. 
"Mrs.  Hilliard  had  had  an  accident — had  slipped  down  and 
hurt  herself,  she  believed."  This  was  what  Jem  repeated, 
telling  the  best  version  she  could  of  the  rumor  which  had 
reached  her  ears.  Hugh  Thorndyke  had  been  among  those 
whose  farewell  she  had  received  on  Netelka's  part:  and  she 
had  been  very  cold,  casting  down  her  eyes  as  she  held  out 
her  hand,  and  letting  him  feel  acutely  that  he  was  in  dis- 
grace. 

Now  they  were  all  gone,  and  Jem  was  lingering  by  her- 
self in  the  deserted  drawing-room,  not  liking  to  go  upstairs 
for  fear  she  should  be  in  the  way,  and  yet  unwilling  to 
leave  the  house  until  she  had  learned  more  explicitly  what 
had  happened  to  her  friend  and  what  that  friend's  condi- 
tion really  was. 

On  hearing  himself  addressed  by  Miss  Collingham,  Har- 
rington Moseley  frowned :  he  did  not  want  just  now  to  have 
to  make  conversation  for  a  girl. 

"What  was  it  that  happened?"  asked  Jem  softly. 

"  Mrs.  Hilliard  was  found  on  the  ground  unconscious, 
with  her  head  injured, "  he  answered  shortly.  "  And — and  a 
quantity  of  property — more  than  I  thought  at  first,  even," — 
and  his  tone  grew  tragic — "  has  been  stolen  from  my  rooms. " 

The  young  girl  drew  herself  up  quickly  to  her  full  height, 
as  if  stiffening  with  indignation. 

"Then  why  don't  you  go  after  him?  Why  did  you  let 
him  get  away?"  she  asked. 

"Do  you  mean — who  do  you  mean?"  said  the  Jew 
hoarsely. 

"  Why,  her  husband,  of  course.  What  other  man  would 
have  the  heart  to  hurt  her?" 

"But— but  I  don't  know  where  he's  gone!"  stammered 
Moseley. 


288  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"  Go  to  the  police,  and  let  them  find  him  for  you,"  re- 
torted Jem  hotly.  "He's  been  out  of  their  hands  long 
enough.  I  saw  him  sneak  out  of  the  house  with  a  small 
portmanteau  in  his  hand  just  after  Lady  Kenslow  went  up- 
stairs." 

Not  even  the  presence  of  the  lady  sufficed  to  restrain  the 
Jew  from  an  outburst  of  rage  against  his  faithless  partner. 

"  The  scoundrel !  the  infernal  scoundrel !"  said  he,  show- 
ing his  teeth  savagely  as  he  shook  his  fist  in  the  air.  "  When 
he  owes  his  fresh  start  in  life  to  me !  When  I  took  pity  on 
him  and  gave  him  another  chance,  when  everybody  else 
looked  upon  him  as  a  rogue  and  a  murderer!  Do  you  call 
that  gratitude?  Do  you  call  that  decency?  To  rob  me — 
me, — the  very  man  who  took  him  up!" 

"  I  shouldn't  have  expected  gratitude  from  such  a  man, 
Mr.  Moseley,"  answered  Jem  dryly,  as  she  turned  back  into 
the  room. 


CHAPTEK  XXXVIH. 

LINLEY'S  ESCAPE. 

LINLEY  had  played  his  last  stake  in  the  old  country,  and 
with  the  rapidity  of  a  thoroughly  free  and  open  mind,  he 
had  decided,  on  finding  that  his  plan  of  a  supposed  bur- 
glary would  not  work,  to  start  proceedings  in  the  new. 
Whether  or  not  there  was  a  taint  of  insanity  in  his  blood, 
inherited  from  his  father,  the  lunatic  who  had  escaped  from 
Warchester,  it  is  certain  that  there  was  something  abnor- 
mal in  his  absolute  callousness,  not  only  where  the  common 
principles  of  honor  and  honesty  were  concerned,  but  in  re- 
gard to  the  sufferings  of  every  being  except  himself.  It  was 
not  that  he  wilfully  disregarded  other  people's  feelings  by 
stifling  his  own  twinges  of  compunction :  it  was  that  he  had 
no  such  feelings.  His  selfishness  reached  that  sublime 
point  at  which  it  compelled  admiration  as  something  un- 
common if  not  unique ;  and  he  was,  in  a  dim  way,  aware  of 
this,  regarding  the  fact  as  a  special  blessing  rather  than  as 
a  sign  of  mental  or  moral  deficiency. 

He  had  been  in  very  low  water  lately,  the  Jew  having  be- 
come exacting,  and  having  made  him  feel  his  dependence. 
Therefore  it  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that 
he  should  seek  to  recover  his  independence  by  any  means 
that  came  to  hand ;  and  since  his  first  plan  of  insuring  the 
lives  of  his  wife  and  of  Gerard  Waller  and  of  compassing 
their  death  had  fallen  through,  there  was  nothing  for  him 
but  to  try  robbery  from  Moseley  himself.  Suspicion  hav- 
ing unfortunately  fallen  upon  him  for  that  also,  there  was 
nothing  before  him  but  flight  tc  America. 
19 


290  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

He  would  go  by  way  of  Paris,  starting  from  Charing  Cross 
at  eight-twenty  that  evening.  He  made  up  his  plans  when, 
after  hastily  cramming  the  stolen  property  into  a  small  port- 
manteau which  he  kept  already  packed  in  case  of  emergen- 
cy, he  had  slipped  out  of  "  The  Firs"  by  the  back  way, 
hailed  one  of  the  hansoms  which  were  waiting  about  on 
account  of  the  garden-party,  and  was  driving  to  the 
station. 

Fortune  favored  him  at  first,  for  he  caught  a  train  at 
once,  and,  getting  out  at  Waterloo,  drove  in  another  han- 
som to  a  little  dingy  office  near  the  Strand,  where  he  could 
get  some  of  the  securities  he  had  stolen  exchanged  for  cash 
— for  a  consideration. 

Linley  came  out  of  the  office  considerably  elated,  for  he 
was  superstitious,  and  he  looked  upon  this  propitious  start 
on  his  journey  as  a  good  omen.  He  had  not  much  time  to 
lose,  so  he  walked  along  the  Strand  at  a  brisk  pace,  and  go- 
ing into  a  bar  where  he  was  well-known  and  calling  for  a 
brandy  and  soda,  got  the  landlord  to  oblige  him  with 
change  for  a  fifty-pound  note.  Then,  going  on  to  a  hotel 
where  he  was  also  well  known,  as  he  often  stayed  the  night 
there,  he  got  a  second  fifty-pound  note  cashed,  and  was  leav- 
ing in  an  entirely  lighthearted  manner,  when  he  suddenly 
perceived  a  man's  face,  which  was  only  too  well  known  to 
him,  and  a  pair  of  eyes  watching  his  movements  with  ab- 
sorbed interest. 

Linley  felt  quite  sick.  His  fingers  faltered,  and  he 
dropped  a  sovereign.  When  he  had  picked  it  up,  the  man 
had  gone  back  a  little,  but  was  still  watching  him.  He  was 
only  one  of  the  waiters,  and  over  his  arm  hung  a  serviette, 
the  badge  of  his  office.  But  he  had  once  done  his  best  to 
hang  Linley,  and  Linley  had  not  forgotten  it. 

The  man  was  Joseph  Turner,  his  former  servant,  whose 
evidence,  if  it  had  been  believed,  as  it  had  deserved  to  be, 


LINLET'S  ESCAPE.  291 

would  have  turned  the  scale  against  Linley  at  the  Liverpool 
Assizes. 

Within  half  a  dozen  seconds  of  the  recognition  Linley 
was  out  of  the  hotel,  and  had  plunged  into  the  crowd  of 
the  Strand.  Joseph  Turner,  meanwhile,  had  spoken  to  the 
landlord. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir ;  but  do  you  know  who  that  was 
you  changed  the  note  for?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  answered  the  landlord,  "he's  all  right.  We 
know  him  very  well  here.  His  name's  Hilliard.  He's  got 
a  place  at  Wimbledon,  and  he  often  stays  the  night  here." 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  man,  "his  name  may  be  Hilliard 
now;  but  last  year,  when  he  was  tried  up  at  Liverpool  for 
murder,  it  was  Dax — Linley  Dax." 

The  man's  tone  was  sufficiently  emphatic  to  command 
attention,  so  his  employer  went  so  far  as  to  run  to  the  door 
with  him  and  to  look  out  after  his  customer.  It  happened 
that  at  that  very  moment  Linley  was  looking  nervously 
round,  his  nerves  having  been  unhinged  by  the  sight  of 
Turner.  As  he  turned,  Turner  caught  sight  of  his  face 
among  the  crowd  and  cried  out  in  much  excitement,  and 
pointing  his  finger  at  him : 

"  There  he  is,  sir;  there  he  is,  sir!" 

Of  course  the  landlord  repressed  him  promptly,  and  there 
the  incident,  as  far  as  they  were  concerned,  ended.  But 
not  for  Linley. 

Insensible  as  he  was  to  the  feelings  of  other  people,  he 
was  particularly  sensitive  to  his  own.  The  sight  of  Joseph 
Turner  had  depressed  his  spirits,  as  being  what  he  consid- 
ered a  bad  omen ;  but  when  he  saw  the  pointing  finger  and 
the  two  faces  looking  out  eagerly  after  him  side  by  side,  he 
trembled  and  for  a  moment  gave  himself  up  for  lost. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  moments,  however,  finding  that  he 
was  not  followed,  he  recovered  his  self-possession  a  little, 


292  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

and  hurried  on  to  Charing  Cross  Station,  where  he  had  just 
time  to  take  his  ticket  for  Paris  and  to  jump  into  the  mail 
train. 

He  had  scarcely  taken  his  seat  when  the  train  started ; 
but  looking  out,  as  he  drew  up  the  window,  he  perceived  a 
group  on  the  platform,  in  the  centre  of  which  were  two  or 
three  policemen.  And  they  looked,  to  Linley's  perturbed 
vision,  as  if  they  were  on  important  business. 

Linley  drew  in  his  face  quickly,  feeling  depressed  and 
uneasy.  He  tried  to  persuade  himself  that  the  presence  of 
the  police  on  the  platform  had  nothing  to  do  with  him,  and 
that  the  sight  of  Turner  had  been  only  a  coincidence.  He 
took  stock  of  his  travelling  companions,  with  an  eye  to  a 
possible  emergency,  and  found  that  they  were  four  in  num- 
ber: a  deaf  old  gentleman,  who  was  already  putting  on  his 
travelling-cap  and  preparing  for  a  nap ;  two  middle-aged 
ladies,  of  the  common  and  unattractive  type  of  the  pros- 
perous middle-class,  and  a  young  girl,  the  daughter,  ap- 
parently, of  one  of  the  ladies. 

He  had  put  his  portmanteau,  which  was  a  small  one,  in 
the  rack  above  his  head  on  entering :  he  had  no  other  lug- 
gage, and  he  was  not  dressed  for  a  journey,  being  in  the 
frock  coat,  light  trousers  and  tall  hat  he  had  worn  that  af- 
ternoon. Over  his  arm  he  carried  an  overcoat,  and  in  one 
of  the  pockets  of  this  was  a  travelling-cap ;  he  was  there- 
fore prepared  with  a  quick  change  of  costume,  which  would, 
he  thought,  in  case  of  need,  serve  as  an  effectual  disguise. 

By  the  time  the  train  reached  Cannon  Street  he  was 
feeling  a  little  more  tranquil,  but  his  limbs  were  still  trem- 
bling and  he  felt  cold.  So  he  jumped  out  of  the  carriage 
and  went  to  the  refreshment-bar  for  a  glass  of  brandy.  As 
he  approached  the  compartment  in  which  he  had  been 
seated,  he  saw  two  of  the  railway  officials  making  an  inspec- 
tion of  the  train  from  end  to  end.  He  modestly  retreated, 


LINLEY'S  ESCAPE.  293 

therefore,  until  he  found  an  opportunity  of  slipping  into 
one  of  the  carriages  which  they  had  already  searched.  This 
manoeuvre  he  effected  very  neatly,  and  he  was  in  the  act  of 
congratulating  himself  on  having  escaped  a  possible  danger 
when  his  joy  was  damped  by  the  sight  of  the  two  officials 
who  had  searched  the  train  standing  side  by  side  on  the 
platform  with  his  precious  portmanteau  between  them. 

Linley  felt  his  white  teeth  chattering  with  rage  as  the 
train  steamed  out  of  the  station,  for  the  portmanteau  con- 
tained, besides  a  change  of  clothes,  the  diamonds  and  other 
jewelry  he  had  stolen  from  Moseley's  rooms  and  some  four 
hundred  pounds  in  money.  He  was  left  with  his  ticket  to 
Paris,  which  he  now  felt  it  would  be  dangerous  to  use,  and 
the  change  out  of  his  two  fifty-pound  notes. 

He  could  no  longer  doubt  that  the  police  were  after  him. 

He  changed  his  hat  for  his  travelling-cap,  put  on  his 
overcoat,  and  pretended  to  go  to  sleep.  But  he  was  in  real- 
ity busily  occupied  in  making  a  fresh  plan  of  action.  At 
Ashford  the  Continental  portion  of  the  train  was  detached 
from  the  rest,  and  here,  as  soon  as  the  speed  was  slack 
enough,  Linley,  regardless  of  the  information  tendered  by 
another  passenger  that  the  train  did  not  stop,  jumped  out 
upon  the  line. 

In  doing  so,  he  hurt  his  ankle  rather  severely,  so  that  he 
had  to  limp  along  very  painfully  until  he  found  a  way  of 
getting  out  into  the  town  without  entering  the  station.  He 
waited  until  the  Continental  portion  of  the  train  by  which 
he  had  come  had  started,  and  then  he  entered  the  station 
from  the  town  side  and  took  a  ticket  for  Canterbury.  He 
thought  he  would  spend  a  few  days  in  the  quiet  old  city, 
where  visitors  were  too  plentiful  to  excite  remark,  and  where 
there  would  be  some  old  china  to  be  picked  up  in  the  curi- 
osity shops. 

It  was  dark  when  he  reached  Canterbury.     His  injured 


294  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

ankle  was  giving  him  a  good  deal  of  pain,  and  he  began 
to  fear  that  he  had  sprained  it  severely  and  that  he  should 
have  to  lie  up  before  he  could  hope  to  walk  without  limp- 
ing. Linley  was  a  very  bad  patient  when  there  was  any- 
thing the  matter  with  him,  requiring  constant  attendance 
and  the  most  exemplary  patience  and  sweetness  on  the  part 
of  his  nurse.  As  his  discomfort  increased,  therefore,  there 
rose  in  his  breast  a  great  longing  for  the  presence  of  his 
gentle-handed  wife;  and  as  he  got,  with  difficulty,  into  a  fly, 
and  was  driven  to  one  of  the  old-fashioned  hostleries  of  the 
High  Street,  he  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  write  at 
once  and  tell  her  to  join  him  there. 

He  had  not  forgotten  the  circumstances  in  which  they 
had  parted  that  afternoon :  indeed  he  was  for  a  moment 
troubled  with  the  question  whether  the  blows  he  had  dealt 
her  would  not  have  proved  fatal.  But  if  she  were  able  to 
come,  as  he  heartily  hoped,  he  had  no  doubt  that  she  would 
be  willing  to  overlook  the  occurrences  of  the  day  just  as  she 
had  overlooked  many  a  delinquency  of  his  in  the  past.  So, 
on  arriving  at  the  "  Golden  Fleece"  he  limped  upstairs  to 
the  big,  old-fashioned,  low-ceilinged  coffee-room,  and  asking 
for  pen  and  paper,  sat  down  and  wrote  to  Netelka  a  most 
touching  note,  every  word  of  which,  strange  to  say,  was 
dictated  by  genuine,  though  perhaps  transient,  emotion. 

He  even  went  so  far,  as  he  felt  his  ankle  growing  worse 
and  remembered  how  tender  her  touch  could  be,  as  to  press 
his  lips  upon  the  paper  before  he  put  it  in  the  envelope. 
Then  he  directed  it,  and  gave  it  to  the  chambermaid  to  post. 

He  was  just  asking  himself  whether  he  had  not  better  at 
once  send  for  a  doctor,  when,  standing  near  the  door  in 
momentary  uncertainty,  he  heard  a  man's  voice  in  the  pas- 
sage below  asking  whether  a  stranger  had  not  arrived  by 
the  last  train. 

This  was  enough  for  Linley.     Without  waiting  to  hear 


HNLEY'S  ESCAPE.  295 

the  reply,  he  opened  a  door  on  the  other  side  of  the  corri- 
dor leading  to  the  back  part  of  the  house,  passed  through, 
shut  it  softly  behind  him,  and  finding  himself  at  the  head 
of  a  back -staircase,  hobbled  down  as  quickly  as  he  could 
and  went  by  a  side  door  out  into  the  street. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
HUGH  THOBKDYKE'S  GOOD-BY. 

IT  was  not  until  an  hour  after  her  husband  had  taken 
flight  that  Netelka  recovered  consciousness.  Then  she  lay 
for  some  time  perfectly  still,  watching  the  trees  outside  as 
their  branches  moved  slightly  in  the  evening  breeze,  and 
wondering  vaguely  why  her  aunt  was  sitting  there. 

Presently  Lady  Kenslow  rose  from  her  chair,  and  then 
Netelka  perceived  that  there  was  another  person  in  the 
room.  This  was  the  doctor,  who  came  forward  on  a  sign 
from  Lady  Kenslow  at  this  moment. 

Netelka  began  at  once  to  recollect  something  of  what  had 
happened,  and  they  saw  her  face  contract  as  the  terrible 
memory  returned.  She  struggled  up  on  her  elbow,  and 
looked  around  her  as  if  seeking  some  one. 

"You  must  be  quiet,  very  quiet,  you  know,"  said  the 
doctor. 

But  this  was  evidently  impossible  to  his  patient,  in  whose 
face  anxiety  grew  deeper  every  moment.  Struggling  to  ob- 
tain command  over  herself,  to  impress  the  doctor  with  the 
idea  that  she  was  not  so  ill  as  he  imagined,  she  addressed 
him  in  a  very  low  voice,  which  she  tried  in  vain  to  keep 
steady : 

"  Will  you  think  me  very  rude,  doctor,  if  I  ask  you  to  let 
me  speak  to  my  aunt  for  one  moment — only  one  moment — 
alone?"  Her  voice  had  sunk  to  a  hoarse  whisper  by  the 
time  she  uttered  the  last  words.  The  doctor,  who  had  an 
inkling  that  something  had  gone  very  wrong  in  the  domes- 
tic affairs  of  the  establishment,  was  forced  to  consent. 


HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  QOO&-BY.  297 

"  Mind,  you  are  upon  honor,"  said  he.  "  It  is  to  be  only 
one  moment.  Then  absolute  quiet  again.  Remember!" 

He  withdrew,  as  he  spoke,  into  the  adjoining  dressing- 
room,  and  Lady  Kenslow  took  his  place  by  the  bedside. 

"Aunt  Mary,  tell  me  the  truth.  What  has  happened? 
Tell  me  everything." 

"  We  found  you  lying  in  your  husband's  dressing-room, 
and  we  picked  you  up  and  brought  you  in  here.  That  is 
all,"  said  Lady  Kenslow. 

"  And  where — where" — her  voice  faltered,  and  she  looked 
again,  fearfully,  round  the  room — "  is  Li-nley?" 

"Nobody  knows,"  answered  Lady  Kenslow,  dryly. 

Netelka  looked  at  her  aunt  questioningly. 

"  Tell  me — I  can  trust  you,  aunt — did  any  one  think " 

"  That  he  had  behaved  like  a  scoundrel?  Yes,  my  dear, 
we  do  think  so.  Isn't  that  enough  for  you  now?" 

"  Only  one  thing  more:  is  anybody  trying  to  find  him?" 

Lady  Kenslow's  eyes  fell.  She  was  a  truthful  woman 
and  she  did  not  want  to  answer  this.  Her  silence,  however, 
was  answer  enough  to  an  intelligence  as  much  on  the  alert 
as  Netelka's.  She  started  up. 

"Ah!"  she  cried.     "I  see.     The  police  are  after  him." 

Lady  Kenslow  said  nothing,  and  the  doctor  coming  back 
at  that  moment,  Netelka  asked  no  more,  but  lay  back  with 
her  eyes  closed,  as  if  asleep. 

Much  to  Lady  Kenslow's  relief,  the  doctor  pronounced 
the  opinion  that  Netelka  was  not  so  seriously  injured  as  had 
been  at  first  supposed,  and  that  professional  nursing  would 
not  be  necessary  if  Lady  Kenslow  preferred  to  attend  on 
her  niece  herself.  The  one  great  essential  to  her  recovery 
was  unfortunately  the  luxury  hardest  to  attain — perfect 
tranquillity,  rest,  and  freedom  from  anxiety. 

It  surprised  Lady  Kenslow  to  find  how  anxious  Netelka 
was  for  the  escape  of  her  husband.  It  even  caused  the  elder 


298  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

lady  to  be  a  little  indignant;  for  to  regret  that  punishment 
should  fall  upon  such  a  scoundrel  as  Linley  had  proved  him- 
self seemed  to  argue  a  meanness  of  spirit  of  which  Netelka 
had  not  previously  shown  any  sign.  However,  of  course, 
she  did  not  attempt  to  remonstrate  with  her  niece  at  that 
time,  but  concurred  in  the  opinion  of  the  latter  that  Lin- 
ley  was  too  clever  to  be  caught. 

On  the  following  morning  Netelka  was  much  better.  She 
was  lying  with  closed  eyes,  pretending  to  be  asleep  because 
she  felt  too  weak  and  too  dispirited  to  talk,  when  she  heard 
a  soft  tap  at  the  door.  Lady  Kenslow,  who  had  passed  the 
night  on  the  sofa,  went  on  tiptoe  to  the  door,  and  the  fol- 
lowing dialogue  between  her  and  the  maid  was  overheard 
by  the  patient  in  the  bed. 

"  There's  a  letter  for  Mrs.  Hilliard,  my  lady,  and  it's  in 
Mr.  Hilliard 's  handwriting,  I  know.  And  look,  the  post- 
mark's Canterbury." 

When  Lady  Kenslow  turned  back  into  the  room,  with 
the  letter  in  her  hand,  of  course  she  found  her  niece  sitting 
up  in  bed,  holding  out  her  hand. 

"  Give  it  to  me,  aunt;  I  must  have  it!" 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  Reluctantly  enough,  Lady 
Kenslow  gave  her  Linley's  letter,  and  drew  back  the  cur- 
tains to  give  her  light  enough  to  read  it.  It  was  as  follows : 

"GOLDEN  FLEECE  INN,  CANTERBURY. 

"MY  DARLING  WIFE  : — What  shall  I  say  to  you?  How  can  I  ask 
you  to  forgive  the  mad  outburst  of  passion  which  possessed  me  to- 
day? I  think  I  was  mad,  Netta — mad  with  misery  and  despair ;  for 
I  have  known  myself  for  some  time  now  to  be  a  ruined  man,  depen- 
dent on  the  charity — Heaven  save  the  mark — of  that  miserable  Jew, 
whose  slaves  we  have  been  for  the  past  few  months.  It  is  his  hate- 
ful presence  which  has  been  a  blight  upon  us,  quenching  for  a  time 
your  love  for  me  and  forcing  me  to  hide  mine  for  you.  But  it  has 
not  killed  our  affection,  Netta,  dear ;  and  now,  in  my  helplessness 
and  my  misery,  in  my  loneliness,  I  cry  out  to  you  to  come  to  me.  I 


HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  GOOD-BY.  299 

am  in  terrible  pain,  Netta.  I  have  hurt  my  ankle  badly,  and  can 
scarcely  put  my  foot  to  the  ground.  Won't  you  come  to  me,  my 
own  darling  wife,  and  let  me  have  your  gentle,  tender  hands  about 
me  instead  of  the  cold  touch  of  a  stranger?  I  implore  you,  Netta, 
to  come  and  to  forgive  my  cruelty  to  you  to-day.  As  for  what  you 
thought,  it  was  not  true ;  it  was  the  falsehood  of  it  which  made  me 
so  angry  with  you  that  I  forgot  myself.  I  did  not  rob  the  Jew ;  I 
only  took  the  miserable  pittance  he  had  often  promised  and  would 
never  give  me.  I  defy  him  to  prove  it  was  a  theft.  But  another 
trial  would  kill  me ;  and  so  I  ask  you  to  come  to  me  secretly,  choos- 
ing a  time  when  you  will  not  be  watched,  and  giving  out  that  you 
are  only  going  back  to  town  to  your  aunt's. 
"  In  the  sweet  hope  of  seeing  you  soon,  my  darling  Netta, 

"  Your  unworthy  but  adoring 

"  LDTLEY.  " 

Netelka  read  this  letter  with  dry,  feverish  eyes.  Then  she 
put  it  away  under  her  pillow,  and  refused  to  say  anything 
about  it  except  that  Linley  was  very  sorry  for  what  he  had 
done.  She  conceived,  as  Linley  had  known  she  would  do, 
that  it  was  her  duty  to  go  to  her  husband  now  that  he  was 
both  ill  and  apparently  repentant.  It  was  not  that  she  had 
no  suspicion  of  his  good  faith ;  on  the  contrary,  she  came 
pretty  near  the  truth  in  her  estimate  of  his  motives.  Still, 
as  she  had  put  up  with  him  so  long,  she  thought  that  she 
ought  at  least  to  see  him,  and  to  try  to  work  upon  him  to 
restore  the  property  he  had  stolen  from  Harrington  Mose- 
ley.  She  might,  perhaps,  by  this  means  bribe  Moseley  not 
to  prosecute.  She  had  another  motive  for  wishing  to  re- 
join her  husband,  which  she  did  not  quite  own  to  herself. 

So  she  lay  back  in  bed,  quietly  turning  over  in  her  mind 
the  question  as  to  how  she  should  best  carry  out  her  inten- 
tion of  going  to  Canterbury.  Of  course  to  ask  permission 
was  not  to  be  thought  of:  she  must  manage  by  herself. 
She  thought  she  might,  perhaps, trust  Jem  as  an  accomplice, 
and  accordingly  she  asked  Lady  Kenslow  if  she  might  see 
the  young  girl. 


300  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

Lady  Kenslow  suggested  that  she  should  wait  until  the 
doctor  came,  and  Netelka  very  unwillingly  resigned  herself 
to  this  delay. 

In  the  mean  time  Jem  was  in  the  throes  of  an  unusual  ex- 
citement. Mrs.  Collingham  had  gone  out,  and  she  was  sit- 
ting in  the  dining-room  with  the  children,  superintending 
their  lessons,  when  the  housemaid  entered,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  consternation  on  her  face. 

"  Please,  miss,  here's  that  gentleman  come,  Mr.  Thorn- 
dyke.  And  what  shall  I  do,  miss?  We're  turning  out  the 
drawing-room,  and  I've  left  him  standing  in  the  hall. 
Shall  I  show  him  in  here,  miss?" 

As  the  dining-room  opened  upon  the  hall,  which  was,  in 
truth,  the  narrowest  of  narrow  passages,  Jem  could  not  give 
her  directions  aloud. 

"No,  no!"  she  whispered  energetically.  "  Say  Mrs.  Col- 
lingham's  out,  and  then  he'll  go  away!" 

"Oh,  no,  he  won't!"  chimed  in  a  deep  man's  voice. 
And  poor  Jem  jumped  up  with  a  cry  of  consternation  as 
Hugh  Thorndyke's  red  face  appeared  at  the  door. 

The  housemaid  retreated  at  once,  having  no  doubt  in  her 
own  mind  that  everything  would  come  right  if  the  young 
lady  and  the  gentleman  were  left  alone  together. 

"  At  least,  of  course,  he  must  go  if  you  insist  on  turning 
him  out.  Only  he  hopes  you  won't,"  went  on  Hugh,  as  he 
insinuated  himself  in  a  modest  manner  into  the  apartment 
and  cast  pleading  glances  at  its  haughty  mistress. 

Jem  wished  to  be  very  chilling :  but  the  children,  remem- 
bering Hugh's  last  visit,  upon  which  occasion  they  had  de- 
cided that  he  was  a  decidedly  desirable  acquaintance,  be- 
gan to  climb  down  from  their  chairs  and  to  stand  round  and 
smile  at  him  with  looks  of  invitation.  Hugh  stooped  and 
distributed  kisses  among  the  little  girls  and  shook  hands 
with  Willie. 


HUQH  THORNDYKE'S  GOOD-BT.  301 

"You  ought  to  be  at  school,  sir,"  said  he  to  that  young 
gentleman,  who  was  decidedly  old  for  the  domestic  school- 
room. 

"Of  course  he  ought,"  said  Jem,  dismally.  "And  so 
ought  Anette.  I  don't  teach  them  because  I  know  how, 
but  because  if  I  didn't  they  wouldn't  get  taught  at  all. 
Don't  you  think,"  she  went  on,  not  looking  at  Hugh,  and 
speaking  with  constraint,  "  that  even  bad  teaching  is  bet- 
ter than  none?" 

"  "Why,  of  course  I  don't,"  said  Hugh,  gently.  "  Bad 
teaching  is  worse,  far  worse  than  none.  But  yours  is  not 
bad  teaching:  it  is  the  very  best.  You  give  them  lessons 
all  day  long  in  kindness,  and  unselfishness,  and  thought- 
fulness  for  others." 

Who  could  help  being  mollified  by  such  a  speech  as  this, 
uttered,  too,  in  accents  of  deepest  sincerity?  Jem  blushed, 
and  tried  in  vain  to  show  that  she  did  not  mean  to  be  talked 
over. 

"You  want  to  see  mamma?"  said  she,  still  keeping  her 
eyes  for  the  most  part  away  from  his  face. 

"Well,  I  want  to  hear  how  Mrs.  Hilliard  is,  and  they 
seem  so  disorganized  at  'The  Firs'  that  we  can't  get  a 
proper  answer  to  our  inquiries." 

"We?"  asked  Jem,  ingenuously. 

"  Gerard  Waller  and  I !  The  poor  fellow  is  distracted. 
He  didn't  dare  to  present  himself  here;  he  said  he  was 
afraid  you  were  offended  with  him.  I  told  him  you  were 
offended  with  me  too,  but  that  I,  being  a  creature  of  pachy- 
dermatous hide,  should  call,  all  the  same." 

At  this  ending,  Jem,  who  had  been  perceptibly  softening, 
grew  stiff  again. 

"  I'm  sorry  you  both  think  me  so  foolish.  I  am  not  of- 
fended with  anybody.  As  for  Gerard,  he  might  have 
called;  I  should  have  liked  to  see  him." 


302  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

"Of  course." 

Hugh  did  allow  his  tone  to  be  rather  colder  as  he  said 
these  two  words.  Jem  reddened  angrily,  and  drew  herself 
up.  But  the  anger  had  died  away  into  shyness  when  she 
spoke. 

"  I  should  have  liked,"  she  said  gently,  "to  reassure  him 
about  Netelka.  That  is  the  one  subject  in  the  world  for 
him." 

Something  in  her  tone  made  Hugh  think  that  his  own 
prospects  were  brighter  than  he  had  supposed.  He  put  his 
hand  on  the  back  of  a  chair  which  was  near  the  end  of  the 
table  where  she  had  been  sitting. 

"May  I  sit  here,"  said  he,  "while  you  go  on  with  the 
lessons?" 

"  You  can  sit  there,  certainly,"  answered  Jem.  "  But," 
and  she  shook  her  head  very  decidedly,  "I  couldn't  at- 
tempt to  go  on  with  the  lessons.  I  shall  give  the  children 
a  holiday." 

And  she  closed  the  geography  which  was  on  the  table 
before  her  and  sat  down.  As  there  was  a  pause  which 
she  found  awkward,  she  said  with  great  suddenness : 

"  This  is  a  farewell  visit,  isn't  it?  Gerard  said  you  were 
going  back  to  Yorkshire  either  to-day  or  to-morrow." 

Hugh  took  up  a  slate  which  lay  in  front  of  him,  and 
began  to  draw  grotesque  figures  upon  it  with  an  end  of 
slate-pencil.  The  children  crowded  round  him,  making 
comments  on  his  ability  and  shrieking  with  delight.  He 
found  that  the  din  they  made  helped  him. 

"  It  depends,"  said  he,  with  a  glance  over  the  children's 
heads  at  Jem. 

But  she  would  not  ask  him  upon  what  his  plans  de- 
pended. She  changed  the  subject  rather  abruptly. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  asked  in  a  low  voice,  "  that  they 
will  catch  her  husband  ?  I  suppose  you  know  about  his 


HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  GOOD-BY.  303 

going  off  with  some  things  belonging  to  Mr.  Moseley?" 
Hugh  assented.  "  Papa  says  Mr.  Moseley  was  rushed  into 
sending  for  the  police,  and  that  he  will  be  afraid  to  prose- 
cute." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  said  Hugh. 

"In  any  case,  what  will  become  of  poor  Mrs.  Hilliard? 
She  can't  stay  at  'The  Firs.'  Mr.  Moseley  has  gone  away, 
and  they  begin  to  say  that  he's  gone  for  good  and  won't 
dare  to  turn  up  again,  and  of  course  Mr.  Hilliard  can't 
come  back.  What  will  poor  Netelka  do?" 

"  Go  back  with  her  aunt  to  town,  if  she's  wise,  and  thank 
her  good  fortune  that  she's  got  away  from  that  scoundrel." 

"Yes,  "said  Jem,  meditatively.  "But  I'm  afraid  he'll 
play  upon  her  feelings  and  get  her  back  again.  See  what 
she's  put  up  with  from  him  already!  Why,  a  woman  is 
silly  to  put  up  with  so  much." 

Then  Hugh,  still  scraping  away  with  his  slate-pencil, 
spoke. 

"They  are  not  all  like  that,"  he  murmured  in  a  soft 
voice.  "  Some  won't  put  up  with  anything.  I  know  one 
who  wouldn't  even  be  decently  civil  to  a  man  just  because 
he  had  fallen  in  with  an  idea  of  hers  and  it  hadn't  worked 
well. " 

"  Ah,  but  you're  not  my  husband !"  retorted  Jem  quickly. 

Hugh's  retort  came  more  quickly  still: 

"No,  but  I  want  to  be." 

He  still  went  on  scraping  with  his  pencil,  while  Jem, 
red,  excited,  trembling,  hunted  in  the  work-basket  by  her 
side  for  something  to  occupy  herself  with.  But  it  was  in 
vain  that  she  tried  to  pretend  that  she  had  not  heard.  She 
knew  that  she  had ;  and  when,  after  a  long  pause,  her  glance 
stole  shyly  in  his  direction,  she  met  his  eyes  looking  at  her 
with  an  expression  which  there  was  no  mistaking. 

"Well,"  he  spoke  in  a  very  measured  tone;  but  he  was 


304  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

not  nearly  so  calm  as  the  children  thought.  They  were 
still  in  ecstasies  over  his  artistic  achievements,  with  the 
exception  of  Willie,  who  stood  staring  from  Jem  to  Hugh 
and  back  again,  from  the  other  side  of  the  table.  It  was 
the  boy  who  broke  the  silence.  Leaning  his  elbows  on  the 
table  and  supporting  his  face  with  his  hands,  he  asked  in 
a  solemn  voice : 

"Won't  she  have  you?" 

"I  don't  know  yet,  Willie,"  answered  Hugh  in  a  tone 
just  as  solemn  as  the  boy's  own.  "  But  I'm  not  going  to 
give  up  hope." 

The  boy  sidled  round  the  table  to  his  half-sister's  side, 
and  putting  one  arm  round  her,  said  earnestly: 

"Jem,  if  you  don't  take  him,  you're  a  fool." 

Jem  burst  out  crying.  Willie  was  hardly  nine,  but  he 
was  her  great  chum  and  confidant. 

"  Do  you  want  to  get  rid  of  me,  then,  Willie?"  she  asked, 
sobbing. 

"  No ;  but  I  want  you  to  get  out  of  this  muddle  and  be 
happy.  And — and,"  added  the  boy,  with  a  sudden  gleam 
of  a  less  interested  feeling,  "  when  your  money's  all  your 
own  and  you  don't  have  to  spend  it  to  pay  the  bills,  you 
can  buy  me  a  bicycle.  You  know  you  promised." 

By  this  time  Hugh  had  left  his  seat,  and  in  a  casual 
way,  still  busy  with  the  slate  and  pencil  and  still  surrounded 
by  the  younger  children,  he  had  gone  down  on  his  knees 
beside  Jem's  chair. 

"  It  will  be  a  shame,  you  know,  Jem,  not  to  get  the  boy 
his  bicycle,  since  you've  promised.  And  it  will  be  no  new 
engagement,  you  see,  only  an  extension  of  lease." 

"But — b-b-b-but,"  stammered  Jem,  half  laughing,  half 
crying,  "  I — I  shan't  dare  to  break  it  off  again,  even  if  I 
want  to!" 

"  I  won't  let  you  want  to!" 


HUGH  THORNDYKE'S  QOOD-BY.  305 

"  And  yon  are  not  jealous  of " 

"  Gerard?  Not  a  bit.  You've  been  too  honest  with  me, 
and  have  let  me  see  that  I  can  cut  him  out. " 

"  But  I  shall  feel  as  if  you  were  only  taking  me  out  of 
kindness  as  a  salve  to  my  wounded  vanity,  after — after 
that  horrid,  horrid  day  at  Hastings!" 

"  Oh,  you  may  think  that  if  you  like,"  murmured  Hugh, 
coming  a  little  nearer,  looking  over  the  head  of  the  young- 
est baby  but  one  into  Jem's  face.  "  I  hadn't  thought  of 
that  as  a  reason  myself.  But  I  am  glad  to  think  I  am 
capable  of  such  a  heroic  sacrifice." 

At  this  moment  the  little  mite  on  his  knee,  probably 
with  the  intention  of  recovering  his  attention  to  herself, 
put  her  arms  round  Hugh's  neck  and  asked  him  to  kiss 
her.  He  complied  at  once.  But  the  mite  was  not  satisfied. 
With  a  fine  perception  of  the  direction  in  which  his  wishes 
were  tending,  she  then  said: 

«Tiss  Jem  too!" 

Jem  blushed,  and  said:  "Sh — sh,  Lina!" 

But  Hugh  said  gently: 

"  Mayn't  I?    Just  to  please  Lina?" 

And,  with  just  a  moment's  pause,  which  only  served  to 
increase  the  value  of  the  permission,  she  let  him. 
20 


CHAPTER  XL. 

A   JOURNEY   AND   ITS   END. 

HUGH  THORNDYKE  and  Jem  were  still  holding  a  conver- 
sation of  an  interesting  but  desultory  sort  with  the  children 
to  play  chorus,  when  a  messenger  arrived  from  "  The  Firs" 
asking  Miss  Collingham  if  she  would  come  and  see  Mrs. 
Billiard. 

Jem  was  shocked  when  she  found  why  Mrs.  Hilliard 
wanted  her,  but,  as  Netelka  had  foreseen,  she  was  easily 
induced  to  yield  to  her  friend's  entreaties,  and  to  help  her 
to  escape,  so  that  the  two  ladies  left  "  The  Firs"  together, 
quietly  and  unobserved,  while  Lady  Kenslow  was  resting 
in  one  of  the  spare  rooms.  The  station  was  not  far  off, 
but  Netelka,  who  found  herself  less  robust  than  she  had 
expected,  was  trembling  with  fatigue  and  feeling  faint 
and  dizzy  by  the  time  they  reached  it. 

To  Jem's  great  joy,  they  ran  against  Gerard  Waller,  who 
was  waiting  for  Hugh. 

"Mrs.  Hilliard!"  cried  he,  petrified  with  astonishment. 

Indeed  her  pale  face  frightened  him,  and  knowing  what 
a  shock  she  had  sustained  on  the  previous  day,  his  horror 
at  seeing  her  was  unspeakable. 

Netelka,  afraid  that  her  strength  might  give  way  or  that 
her  emotions  might  get  the  better  of  her  if  she  paused  in 
her  task,  bowed  and  passed  quickly  on  to  the  platform. 
But  Jem  stayed  behind  and  whispered  to  Gerard : 

"  Follow  her.  She's  going  to  Canterbury.  Her  detest- 
able husband  is  there,  and  wants  her  to  go  with  him. 
And  she's  going.  Poor  darling!  I  don't  think  she  can  be 


A  JOURNEY  AND  ITS  END.  307 

quite  in  her  right  mind !  I've  promised  not  to  stop  her, 
but  I  may  do  this." 

Then,  without  waiting  for  any  other  answer  than  that 
she  saw  in  Gerard's  anxious  eyes,  she  ran  after  her  patient. 

"You  won't  let  me  go  with  you,  then,"  she  asked 
Netelka,  "  to  take  care  of  you,  in  case  you  might  not  feel 
so  strong  as  you  fancy  you  do?" 

Netelka  shook  her  head. 

"  I  want  you  to  go  back  now.  I  want  you  to  go  back 
with  Gerard  Waller,  whom  we  passed  just  now.  I  want 
you  to  marry  him.  He's  a  good  fellow,  and  would  take 
care  of  you  as  you  deserve,  my  dear." 

Jem  laughed  and  blushed. 

"  There's  somebody  else  who  answers  to  that  description," 
said  she  in  a  whisper.  "  Can't  you  guess  who  it  is?" 

Of  course  it  did  not  take  Netelka  very  long  to  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  this  person  was  Hugh  Thorndyke.  She 
kissed  the  girl  on  both  cheeks,  and  heartily  wished  her 
happiness.  Then  her  train  came  up,  and  Jem  had  no  time 
even  to  ask  her  when  she  was  coming  back. 

Netelka  soon  began  to  feel  painfully  aware  of  the  rash- 
ness of  the  step  she  had  taken.  She  got  out  at  Waterloo, 
drove  to  Charing  Cross,  took  her  ticket  to  Canterbury, 
and  just  managed  to  stagger  into  the  train  when  her  strength 
gave  way  altogether,  and  she  fell  back  fainting  on  to  the 
seat. 

When  she  came  to  herself,  the  train  was  in  motion,  and 
she  was  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  a  man. 

"  Gerard !"  she  cried  even  before  she  saw  his  face.  And 
then  she  struggled  up  and  stared  at  him  in  stupefaction. 
"  Why  have  you  done  this?  Why  did  you  come  with  me?" 

"  Never  mind  why,"  answered  Gerard  in  a  tone  which  he 
made  as  matter  of  fact  as  he  could,  "  but  thank  your  stars 
I'm  here.  You're  not  in  a  fit  state  to  travel,  and  if  it 


308  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

hadn't  been  for  me  you'd  have  stood  a  very  good  chance  of 
falling  flat  on  the  floor  and  being  trodden  upon  by  an 
entering  passenger  at  the  next  station." 

Netelka  was  silent.  She  had  a  great  deal  to  say  to 
Gerard  at  this  her  last  interview  with  him,  as  she  supposed : 
for  that  Linley  would  want  to  take  her  away  from  England 
with  him  she  did  not  doubt.  But,  though  the  ideas  were 
in  her  mind,  weakness  made  it  difficult  for  her  to  express 
them.  After  a  pause,  which  he  was  discreet  enough  not 
to  try  to  break,  she  said,  in  a  broken,  husky  voice: 

"  Now,  Gerard,  I  want  to  speak  to  you  very  seriously. 
You  are  not  to  answer  me ;  you  are  just  to  listen  and  to 
remember.  Now,  you  have  been  a  good  boy,  and  have  given 
up  baccarat  and — and  all  that  baccarat  stands  for,  like  a 
sensible  person.  Now,  it  is  just  possible  that  I  may  not  be 
able  to  see  you  again.  I  want  you  to  promise — to  go  on — 
being  good — and  sensible,  just  the  same  as  if — people  were 
always  at  your  elbow  telling  you  to  keep  it  up.  Of  course 
you  are  much  too  sensible — not  to  do  it  of  your  own  ac- 
cord. But  still — I  want  you  to — promise." 

Gerard  did  not  look  up. 

He  was  holding  one  of  her  hands ;  and  he  said  in  a  very 
hoarse  whisper,  with  something  in  his  voice  which  sounded 
like  a  sob:  "I  promise — oh,  God! — I  promise." 

She  let  her  hand  remain  in  his  a  few  moments,  and  then, 
drawing  it  gently  away,  she  sat  back  in  her  corner. 

When  they  reached  Canterbury,  Gerard  perceived  in- 
stantly that  something  unusual  had  happened  in  the  town, 
and  catching  a  few  words  which  roused  his  suspicions,  he 
hurried  Netelka  into  a  fly  which  was  waiting  outside  the 
station  and  mingled  again  among  the  crowd  to  find  out 
further  details  concerning  the  cause  of  their  excitement. 

It  was  easy  enough  to  obtain  the  information  he  wanted : 
the  story  was  poured  into  his  ears  by  half  a  dozen,  mouths. 


A  JOURNEY  AND  ITS  END.  309 

A  stranger  had  arrived  in  the  city  on  the  previous  night, 
and  a  couple  of  London  detectives  had  come  down  by  the 
next  train  to  arrest  him  for  some  crime  which  the  good  peo- 
ple of  Canterbury  described  variously  as  murder,  forgery, 
and  swindling.  At  any  rate,  the  police  had  got  on  the  track 
of  the  man,  and  an  exciting  chase  had  resulted.  He  had 
turned  to  the  right  at  the  top  of  the  High  Street  and  run 
along  the  rising  path  that  leads,  above  the  cattle  market,  to- 
ward the  iron  foot-bridge  over  Watling  Street.  When  he 
was  close  to  the  bridge,  however,  he  was  suddenly  con- 
fronted by  a  member  of  the  local  police  force,  who  had  been 
on  the  watch  for  him  at  this  point.  Turning  his  head  and 
seeing  that  the  Londoners  were  close  behind,  the  criminal, 
who  was  lame  and  consequently  at  a  disadvantage,  took  a 
desperate  resolve.  He  climbed  over  the  railing  on  the  left, 
intending  to  let  himself  down  gently  into  the  stone-paved 
cattle  market  below.  The  detectives,  however,  rushing 
up  at  that  moment,  caused  him  to  hurry  his  movements. 
He  lost  his  balance  and  fell  backward  onto  the  flagstones 
below. 

He  was  picked  up  dead. 

Gerard  went  out  to  Netelka  and  asked  her  to  wait  while 
he  made  some  inquiries,  so  that  he  might  not  have  to  waste 
time  driving  about.  Then  he  drove  in  another  cab  post- 
haste to  the  mortuary,  obtained  permission  to  see  the  dead 
man,  and  in  a  few  moments  found  himself,  as  he  had  ex- 
pected, looking  at  the  corpse  of  Linley  Dax. 

He  hurried  back  to  Netelka,  who  was  by  this  time  feeling 
too  ill  herself  to  notice  his  ghastly  pallor.  But  she  was 
struck  by  a  change  in  his  tone  when  he  spoke  to  her.  It 
was  colder  than  before. 

"  Mrs.  Hilliard,"  said  he  in  a  low  voice  as  he  opened  the 
cab  door  for  her  to  get  out,  "  Linley  has — has  got  away 
from  here.  It  is  of  no  use  for  you  to  wait  about.  There 


310  A  SENSATIONAL  CASE. 

is  a  train  back  to  town  in  a  few  minutes.  I  must  take  yon 
to  Trewithen  Street,  and  wire  to  Lady  Kenslow  at  '  The 
Firs'  and  her  own  house  to  tell  her  what  has  become  of 
you." 

She  was  too  ill  to  protest  much,  and  Gerard  got  her  into 
the  train  without  trouble.  During  the  journey  his  atten- 
tions, though  constant,  were  silent  ones;  and  when  Lady 
Kenslow  received  her  niece  at  the  door  of  her  house,  hav- 
ing had  his  telegram,  it  was  without  another  word  to  Ne- 
telka  that  he  handed  her  over  to  her  aunt. 

But  he  begged  an  interview  with  Lady  Kenslow,  and  told 
her  the  tragic  news.  Her  first  feeling  was  one  of  undis- 
guised relief;  but  then  the  ruling  passion  found  vent  once 
more. 

"  There  will  be  another  scandal,  and  a  worse  one  than 
ever!"  she  exclaimed  plaintively. 

"What  does  that  matter,"  burst  out  Gerard  fiercely. 
"  compared  to  the  knowledge  that  Netelka  is  free  from  that 
scoundrel  at  last — forever?  Lady  Kenslow,  I  may  speak 
now;  your  niece  has  saved  me,  helped  me  from  a  brute's 
life  to  a  man's.  Not  a  very  lofty  elevation,  perhaps  you 
will  say;  but  it's  something,  isn't  it?  And  in  doing  it  she 
has  made  me  love  her — oh,  I  may  say  it  now  to  you — in  a 
way  worthy  of  herl  I  may  say  that,  for  she  has  never 
heard  a  word  of  it  from  my  lips — never.  But  now,  now  I 
may  speak.  I'll  go  away  now,  and  I  won't  come  near  her, 
except  to  sneak  up  to  the  door  to  ask  how  she  is,  for — for 
three  months,  six  months,  a  year,  anything  you  like.  But 
some  day  you  must  ask  her  if  I've  a  chance,  and — and  if  I 
have,  you  may  expect  me  by  the  next  flash  of  lightning!" 

There  was  a  scandal,  of  course;  and  Harrington  Moseley 
found  it  prudent  to  retire  to  the  Continent  for  a  time. 
And  "  The  Firs"  was  shut  up  again,  and  the  land  adver- 
tised as  to  let  "  for  building  purposea  "  In  the  mean  time 


A  JOURNEY  AND  ITS  END.  311 

Gerard,  by  a  happy  inspiration,  made  a  clean  breast  of  it, 
and  told  his  father  of  the  debts  he  had  incurred.  Much  to 
his  surprise,  old  Mr.  Waller  took  the  confession  in  good 
part,  and  helped  his  son  out  of  the  difficulties  he  had  made 
for  himself,  while  grumbling  at  having  to  pay  such  large 
sums  to  a  "  vile  Jew." 

Jem  married  Hugh  six  months  later;  and  when  she  re- 
turned to  England  after  a  honeymoon  abroad,  took  Willie 
and  the  youngest  baby  but  one  with  her  to  her  Yorkshire 
home. 

And  six  months  later  still,  Gerard  got  a  little  note  from 
Lady  Kenslow  containing  these  words: 

"  DEAB  MR.  WALLER — You  have  a  chance.  Come  by  the  next 
flash  of  lightning.  Yours  very  sincerely, 

"MARY  KENSLOW. " 

Gerard  came. 


THE   END. 


CEu 


LA 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  779  028     o 


